I am almost certainly not going to last long in this experiment.
I'm a techie and an information junkie. I function via connectivity. Being pulled out from the flow of social information has left me feeling slower and more cavernous.
However, it does appear to be correlated with a reduction in anxiety still. Unclear if I'm just getting over the hump in ulcer stress or if cutting myself off socially is actually helping me decompress. To that end, I think continuing forward as is will be the wisest course of action.
I will write a blogpost daily as planned, and I'll see if reading becomes a little more feasible for me when I have fewer things to occupy my mind with.
Speaking of first impressions, they're a unique and difficult beast. You typically only get the one initial impression before an opinion about you has been rendered. This is a largely irreversible process that most people are not super spectacular at. I've never been much at first impressions, certainly.
I tend to be more of a silent observer on first meetings, speaking only after I've gained a sense of the people around me and I'm reasonably confident I won't be crossing any lines with them. I like to play my hand only after having as much information as I can expect to garner within reason.
But, there are others who are naturally quite charming.
And there are those who are not socially aware enough to realize how horribly they can come across. Everyone has their own unique level of proficiency in this (and any other) skill.
We tend to absorb the first impression we receive of someone and craft a rather elaborate set of opinions based solely on that limited amount of information. These opinions inform how we perceive future interactions with this person, which in turn shades our opinions with our pre-conceived notions. It's a self-sustaining feedback loop designed to reinforce the opinions we already hold. Difficult to break, but not impossible. Typically, it requires a significant event that makes us re-evaluate the foundations we've constructed for a person. Seeing someone we thought selfish being self-sacrificing and not saying anything about it. Watching an "asshole" run, dropping everything, to make sure a friend is okay. Hearing someone "socially inept" make a series of very witty observations that were neither forced nor clung to. Catching someone "heartless" break down and cry about a situation that is not theirs. Knowing an "egotist" who offers true and deep apologies for wrongs they've committed.
It may take extraordinary circumstances in order to so fundamentally change how we perceive someone after a first impression has been established, but it's definitely possible.
We just have to remind ourselves not to get stuck in the same pattern of thoughts, behaviors, and actions. We have to be able to surprise ourselves and others. Constantly grow and strive to be a little closer to our ideal selves every day.
Sometimes, you owe it to people to give weight to their second impression. Not everyone can make a good first impression, and it's a little immature to refuse to re-evaluate previous positions- especially in light of updated or new information. We all have the propensity to be... hasty... in our judgments. We all owe an apology somewhere along the lines for developing a negative opinion pre-maturely.
And, we all owe an apology somewhere along the lines for saying or doing something that undoubtedly left a negative first impression unintentionally.
When my contact with the outside world resumes, I can think of one such person that I owe an apology to for an unfortunate first impression that was my fault.
Perhaps speaking in terms of "owing" and "obligation" is a bit much, but it's respectful and nice to own up to our actions and take responsibility.
-
Wad
Thursday, March 6, 2014
Wednesday, March 5, 2014
Day 1: The Reckoning
So, it became really apparent by noon today that my body is used to automatically spending my spare time on Facebook, Reddit, and a few other social sites in lesser doses.
Apparent enough that I've decided to do a daily blog entry (they might be a hair smaller? I dunno') in order to fill some of this excess time I suddenly have. I suspect if this trend continues, I'll wind up deliberately picking up some basic computer programming or something. I have no idea.
On the offset, my anxieties appear to have been reduced by some 30ish percent between yesterday and today. A number of variables could be the cause of this, however, and I'm absolutely not prepared to say that I made the "correct" decision.
Regardless, it's at least important for me to experiment with this until I can find a successful method of curbing my anxiety that doesn't also destroy my body (I'm looking at you, Buspar). To that end, I've gone a bit to the extreme side of things by distancing myself from the only active social presence I am a part of. I intend to still see individual people whenever they're interested in hanging out, but I think it's time I gave myself a break. Even if it's just to see what happens.
The inability to link myself into the social flow is... stressful, but it's also incredibly calming. For the first time in a week or so, I feel like my brain is slowing down, and not out of exhaustion, but just because I'm not over-stimulating it finally.
At this point, my vague plan is to contact my psychiatrist to set up an appointment after a few days' trial of this test. I'll be able to address a number of small(ish) side-effects of the SSRIs. I'll also be able to bring up the issue of Emotional Support Animals, which will hopefully provide the loophole I and my roommate need to own a cat despite our apartment complex not being terribly accommodating of pets normally.
At that point, we'll likely re-evaluate the potential that medication can assist with my anxiety problems. While I am on the one hand hesitant to be on a number of different medications at once, it has becoming increasingly clear that the additional mental energy afforded by my reduced depression has been funneled directly into my social anxieties.
With that in mind, I also intend to push myself towards researching for graduate school again, as well as hopefully pursuing some writing (mostly just blog stuff, but maybe a novel?) on the side.I've also got an itch to join a gym once the weather stops being objectively the worst and my stomach stops having a hole in it.
I've deleted all of my text conversations.
I've disabled Facebook.
I've disabled OKCupid.
I've disabled Reddit.
I've deleted all non-essential contacts from my phone (I have 21 contacts remaining; 4 work contacts, 5 family contacts, 2 healthcare contacts, 7 contacts who are friends/roommates that I will contact in case of emergency, my landlord, and 2 professors).
I will still respond to messages sent to me, but I will immediately delete any conversation I am a part of, nor will I ever initiate contact from my phone. If you want to talk to me through the duration of this experiment, you're going to have to supply the first foot forward.
If you don't want to talk to me through the duration of this, then I'll see you on the other side~
If you're not interested in talking to me ever, then I'm sure we'll both be worse off for the lack of connection. (Also, why are you reading my blog?)
The world is beautiful and complicated, and I know that what I'm doing may inconvenience or possibly hurt others, and for that, I do truly apologize. However, this is something that I feel I need to do for myself right now. So again, if you'd like to talk to me, please be the initiator for a little while.
My number is 859-462-0638 if you don't already have it, but you should probably identify yourself if you text me, since my contact book is super empty. =D
-
Wad
Apparent enough that I've decided to do a daily blog entry (they might be a hair smaller? I dunno') in order to fill some of this excess time I suddenly have. I suspect if this trend continues, I'll wind up deliberately picking up some basic computer programming or something. I have no idea.
On the offset, my anxieties appear to have been reduced by some 30ish percent between yesterday and today. A number of variables could be the cause of this, however, and I'm absolutely not prepared to say that I made the "correct" decision.
Regardless, it's at least important for me to experiment with this until I can find a successful method of curbing my anxiety that doesn't also destroy my body (I'm looking at you, Buspar). To that end, I've gone a bit to the extreme side of things by distancing myself from the only active social presence I am a part of. I intend to still see individual people whenever they're interested in hanging out, but I think it's time I gave myself a break. Even if it's just to see what happens.
The inability to link myself into the social flow is... stressful, but it's also incredibly calming. For the first time in a week or so, I feel like my brain is slowing down, and not out of exhaustion, but just because I'm not over-stimulating it finally.
At this point, my vague plan is to contact my psychiatrist to set up an appointment after a few days' trial of this test. I'll be able to address a number of small(ish) side-effects of the SSRIs. I'll also be able to bring up the issue of Emotional Support Animals, which will hopefully provide the loophole I and my roommate need to own a cat despite our apartment complex not being terribly accommodating of pets normally.
At that point, we'll likely re-evaluate the potential that medication can assist with my anxiety problems. While I am on the one hand hesitant to be on a number of different medications at once, it has becoming increasingly clear that the additional mental energy afforded by my reduced depression has been funneled directly into my social anxieties.
With that in mind, I also intend to push myself towards researching for graduate school again, as well as hopefully pursuing some writing (mostly just blog stuff, but maybe a novel?) on the side.I've also got an itch to join a gym once the weather stops being objectively the worst and my stomach stops having a hole in it.
I've deleted all of my text conversations.
I've disabled Facebook.
I've disabled OKCupid.
I've disabled Reddit.
I've deleted all non-essential contacts from my phone (I have 21 contacts remaining; 4 work contacts, 5 family contacts, 2 healthcare contacts, 7 contacts who are friends/roommates that I will contact in case of emergency, my landlord, and 2 professors).
I will still respond to messages sent to me, but I will immediately delete any conversation I am a part of, nor will I ever initiate contact from my phone. If you want to talk to me through the duration of this experiment, you're going to have to supply the first foot forward.
If you don't want to talk to me through the duration of this, then I'll see you on the other side~
If you're not interested in talking to me ever, then I'm sure we'll both be worse off for the lack of connection. (Also, why are you reading my blog?)
The world is beautiful and complicated, and I know that what I'm doing may inconvenience or possibly hurt others, and for that, I do truly apologize. However, this is something that I feel I need to do for myself right now. So again, if you'd like to talk to me, please be the initiator for a little while.
My number is 859-462-0638 if you don't already have it, but you should probably identify yourself if you text me, since my contact book is super empty. =D
-
Wad
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
PEACE, Y'ALL!
I believe I've decided to disconnect myself from the milieu of social information for a while.
My anxiety appears to be spiking, with no sign of slowing down, causing me levels of stress that have twice correlated with the appearance of an ulcer now. Given that my anxieties are centered around interpersonal connections, it seems natural that severing myself from the flow of society may help to quell this tide.
In the meantime, I also have a number of personal issues that I need to work on in order to approach the person I'd like to be someday. I cannot pretend that simply addressing the symptoms of my problem will make the problem itself go away. And while this is a somewhat spontaneous decision, it is not one I'm making lightly. Rather, it seems I'm grasping at potential methods for reducing this crippling anxiety, even if they might service as a detriment to my life. But, I cannot know until I try, now can I?
Moreover, if the problem is indeed continuing to grow, then my presence online will only function as a party for pity- territory I've already started slipping very quickly towards. Rather than allow the people around me to struggle to try to hold me up by my various insecurities, I am opting instead to go for a full blackout. A disconnection that will hopefully urge my body and mind to slow down and re-evaluate it's current path and progress.
This is pure speculation, so I haven't a single idea if it'll work or if it may cause worse problems. At the very least, however, it will be nice to know that I'm testing new grounds again- actively trying to solve these problems. To that end, at midnight tonight, I intend to deactivate my Facebook, purge my phone of all non-essential contacts, and allow my blog to function as my sole outlet. It's possible that I'll come to regret this decision quickly, and it's possible I'll fall in love with this decision.
Who knows?
What matters right now is that I'm getting worse, my symptoms arrive through contact (or lack thereof) with people around me, but not physically present, and I'm tired of feeling like, at best, I'm a casual friend, and at worst a simple blight on those around me. This is not to suggest that I'm not potentially a blight or a friend- merely that that's how I perceive myself through my interactions with others. And I know it's not healthy.
So, perhaps this parasite will starve with the lack of contact.
Or, perhaps it will lash out like a cornered animal.
Or perhaps the effect will be far more benign than that.
I don't know. I really don't. I know I'm scared.
Scared of not getting better.
-
Wade
My anxiety appears to be spiking, with no sign of slowing down, causing me levels of stress that have twice correlated with the appearance of an ulcer now. Given that my anxieties are centered around interpersonal connections, it seems natural that severing myself from the flow of society may help to quell this tide.
In the meantime, I also have a number of personal issues that I need to work on in order to approach the person I'd like to be someday. I cannot pretend that simply addressing the symptoms of my problem will make the problem itself go away. And while this is a somewhat spontaneous decision, it is not one I'm making lightly. Rather, it seems I'm grasping at potential methods for reducing this crippling anxiety, even if they might service as a detriment to my life. But, I cannot know until I try, now can I?
Moreover, if the problem is indeed continuing to grow, then my presence online will only function as a party for pity- territory I've already started slipping very quickly towards. Rather than allow the people around me to struggle to try to hold me up by my various insecurities, I am opting instead to go for a full blackout. A disconnection that will hopefully urge my body and mind to slow down and re-evaluate it's current path and progress.
This is pure speculation, so I haven't a single idea if it'll work or if it may cause worse problems. At the very least, however, it will be nice to know that I'm testing new grounds again- actively trying to solve these problems. To that end, at midnight tonight, I intend to deactivate my Facebook, purge my phone of all non-essential contacts, and allow my blog to function as my sole outlet. It's possible that I'll come to regret this decision quickly, and it's possible I'll fall in love with this decision.
Who knows?
What matters right now is that I'm getting worse, my symptoms arrive through contact (or lack thereof) with people around me, but not physically present, and I'm tired of feeling like, at best, I'm a casual friend, and at worst a simple blight on those around me. This is not to suggest that I'm not potentially a blight or a friend- merely that that's how I perceive myself through my interactions with others. And I know it's not healthy.
So, perhaps this parasite will starve with the lack of contact.
Or, perhaps it will lash out like a cornered animal.
Or perhaps the effect will be far more benign than that.
I don't know. I really don't. I know I'm scared.
Scared of not getting better.
-
Wade
Story Tellin'
Spurred by a fascinating discussion last night on the merits of storytelling/world-building in media (particularly movies), I spent some time thinking about what it is that makes a tale memorable or interesting for me.
The discussion effectively boiled down to whether it was more important for a story to be told well, or for it to have a practical message being sent.
Despite the fact that I'm a pragmatist well before I'm interested in achieving the perfect theory, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have an enormous soft spot for complicated narratives that don't necessarily tell the most savory of stories. "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable."
Stories with unpleasant messages can nevertheless be important perspectives. Stories can function to trigger our deepest emotions despite having no basis in the world that represents our day-to-day lives. I will never interact with the characters in stories personally. I will never live in the world inhabited by those characters. I will never have to confront a reality proposed by a narrative. However, they will still always make me feel things.
I may not agree with a character's actions, but I might understand why those decisions were made.
I may not personally have any interest in a cognitive or behavioral style as carried out by a fictional character, but I might still be able to learn from the unique emotions that said style imparts upon them.
I may not find a character's choices conscionable, but I might learn something new about my feelings based on the perspectives I'm witnessing.
Watchmen, the graphic novel (and later movie) represents an excellent example of a story with characters who are all on extreme ends of a spectrum, virtually unrelatable in their individual circumstances. But despite this and despite the fact that the message of the film is not a practical or joyous one, the story is nothing short of phenomenal.
I do not often find that I'm terribly put off by a movie that has no useful message to send so long as the story is fundamentally well-told (often, a well-told story has a message to send, but there are times where a good story is simply an adequate exploration of fascinating ideas). Not because the message is unimportant to me, but rather because I do not think it is the obligation of art to agree with us, but rather, to allow us to explore and feel things.
#storyrants
-
Wad
The discussion effectively boiled down to whether it was more important for a story to be told well, or for it to have a practical message being sent.
Despite the fact that I'm a pragmatist well before I'm interested in achieving the perfect theory, I'd be lying if I said I didn't have an enormous soft spot for complicated narratives that don't necessarily tell the most savory of stories. "Art should comfort the disturbed and disturb the comfortable."
Stories with unpleasant messages can nevertheless be important perspectives. Stories can function to trigger our deepest emotions despite having no basis in the world that represents our day-to-day lives. I will never interact with the characters in stories personally. I will never live in the world inhabited by those characters. I will never have to confront a reality proposed by a narrative. However, they will still always make me feel things.
I may not agree with a character's actions, but I might understand why those decisions were made.
I may not personally have any interest in a cognitive or behavioral style as carried out by a fictional character, but I might still be able to learn from the unique emotions that said style imparts upon them.
I may not find a character's choices conscionable, but I might learn something new about my feelings based on the perspectives I'm witnessing.
Watchmen, the graphic novel (and later movie) represents an excellent example of a story with characters who are all on extreme ends of a spectrum, virtually unrelatable in their individual circumstances. But despite this and despite the fact that the message of the film is not a practical or joyous one, the story is nothing short of phenomenal.
I do not often find that I'm terribly put off by a movie that has no useful message to send so long as the story is fundamentally well-told (often, a well-told story has a message to send, but there are times where a good story is simply an adequate exploration of fascinating ideas). Not because the message is unimportant to me, but rather because I do not think it is the obligation of art to agree with us, but rather, to allow us to explore and feel things.
#storyrants
-
Wad
Friday, February 28, 2014
On the Nature of Morality
I got to drive for a few hours today on business, and naturally, I spent most of the trip obsessing over one thing or another.
One of those "one thing"s was the topic of morality and how I would teach a class on ethics.
I'd actually been pretty excited when imagining the prospect. Ethics is just such a fascinating topic! You can't have a unified set of laws or principles for ethics; if you could, that's what we would be using to base our laws off of. We have to assume deontology misses the mark because the moral value of actions isn't absolute- it varies based on context. We also have to assume that moral relativism misses the mark since there would be little more than ethical anarchy if we were to admit that it was an acceptable proposition to suggest that all morals vary by culture. If the very notion of morality was malleable between societies, then one society could impose its moral rules on another society without worry of repercussions.
Is culture A allowed to attack culture B to take their land? What if the moral law for culture A is "the strongest is right"?
We're right to hesitate when confronted with a situation like that, since total moral relativism falls apart just as quickly as total moral absolutism.
Let's look at a comparison within the same realm and scope:
An initial inclination might be to simply weigh all ethical issues in economic terms: The cost of one person to save one person is exactly equal. Anything exactly equal or better as far as trades go is golden.
But, then we get into the issue of relative worth. Can I really kill the scientist working on a cure for cancer in order to save the impoverished and uneducated boy who has roughly the same life expectancy?
While it's undoubtedly uncomfortable, we have to issue a cost-benefit-analysis at some point. Are the positives outweighing the negatives?
How do we measure such an abstract question?! This is the intent and function of utilitarianism. A problem occurs, however, when we replace innate human values with the quest for the greater good.
If we can measure the average worth and cost of a human being to society over the course of their life based solely on their first ten years (hypothetically speaking, of course. This calculation would be difficult), then we can, on average, provide for the greater good by killing people who will, on average, "bring society down."
This is problematic in a whole 'nother ballpark. Moral absolutism leaves no gray areas in the middle to be explored by humans.
Utilitarianism forces all situations into the gray area in such a way that people become mere parts of a whole mechanism. Cogs in a wheel. Moreover, utilitarianism ignores the subjective nature of worth. Different people value different things/experiences/ideas to varying degrees respectively.
While the experience of love might be worth a great amount to you, it may be worth far less to Jane Doe, who is more concerned with personal gain.
To avoid breaching too far back into territory I've already covered on The Suffering Tax, I'll hold myself here and just say that ethics is a really interesting and nuanced topic. I kinda' love it.
-
Waddles
One of those "one thing"s was the topic of morality and how I would teach a class on ethics.
I'd actually been pretty excited when imagining the prospect. Ethics is just such a fascinating topic! You can't have a unified set of laws or principles for ethics; if you could, that's what we would be using to base our laws off of. We have to assume deontology misses the mark because the moral value of actions isn't absolute- it varies based on context. We also have to assume that moral relativism misses the mark since there would be little more than ethical anarchy if we were to admit that it was an acceptable proposition to suggest that all morals vary by culture. If the very notion of morality was malleable between societies, then one society could impose its moral rules on another society without worry of repercussions.
Is culture A allowed to attack culture B to take their land? What if the moral law for culture A is "the strongest is right"?
We're right to hesitate when confronted with a situation like that, since total moral relativism falls apart just as quickly as total moral absolutism.
Let's look at a comparison within the same realm and scope:
- Is it acceptable to kill someone in order to save another person?
- Is it acceptable to kill someone in order to save 100 people?
- Is it acceptable to kill someone in order to save 99.999% of all people?
- Is it acceptable to ensure the safety of two people at the cost of everyone else, if you're reasonably sure that the alternative was that everyone would die?
An initial inclination might be to simply weigh all ethical issues in economic terms: The cost of one person to save one person is exactly equal. Anything exactly equal or better as far as trades go is golden.
But, then we get into the issue of relative worth. Can I really kill the scientist working on a cure for cancer in order to save the impoverished and uneducated boy who has roughly the same life expectancy?
While it's undoubtedly uncomfortable, we have to issue a cost-benefit-analysis at some point. Are the positives outweighing the negatives?
How do we measure such an abstract question?! This is the intent and function of utilitarianism. A problem occurs, however, when we replace innate human values with the quest for the greater good.
If we can measure the average worth and cost of a human being to society over the course of their life based solely on their first ten years (hypothetically speaking, of course. This calculation would be difficult), then we can, on average, provide for the greater good by killing people who will, on average, "bring society down."
This is problematic in a whole 'nother ballpark. Moral absolutism leaves no gray areas in the middle to be explored by humans.
Utilitarianism forces all situations into the gray area in such a way that people become mere parts of a whole mechanism. Cogs in a wheel. Moreover, utilitarianism ignores the subjective nature of worth. Different people value different things/experiences/ideas to varying degrees respectively.
While the experience of love might be worth a great amount to you, it may be worth far less to Jane Doe, who is more concerned with personal gain.
To avoid breaching too far back into territory I've already covered on The Suffering Tax, I'll hold myself here and just say that ethics is a really interesting and nuanced topic. I kinda' love it.
-
Waddles
Wednesday, February 26, 2014
The Fading Times
So, I recently had a bit of an odd revelation. I came to understand where my roommate was coming from in his desire to flee from his current life and start over.
I've always had some inkling of that emotional desire, but it was never something that I'd felt particularly strongly. However, I've been doing a lot of mulling (read: obsessing) about my life and my relationships lately, and it occurred to me that the size of my friendgroup is diminishing (as would be expected after college), and the number of people I see on a consistent basis is continuing to decrease as well. Soon, my roommate will be gone. Without him, it's entirely possible that the weekly ritual of pizza night will falter, if not fall altogether. That may be a rather pessimistic approach by me though. I often downplay the successes I've helped to create and the effort I put into systems that I want to see function.
Still, there's a part of me that is concerned that, piece by piece, my social life here will stagnate and disappear save for two or three lights.
Moreover, I realize that Lexington is running to the end of its natural course in my life. I have graduate school to think about for next year (or possibly the year after), finding a way to live the dream with my brother sometime down the road, and figuring out where I want to end up settling down.
I can't say how much time I have left here... At least a year and a half. Maybe a little more? It probably depends on what happens between now and then.
But I am happy. And it's strange to think that finally being happy for the first time in as many years as I can remember, I would want to start over somewhere new. It's almost twistedly cruel to the people I love to have them experience me mired in depression, only to flee when I've finally started to rise out of it.
But I don't intend on shutting anyone out. I don't intend on letting the lines of communication slip and wither no matter how assured I get of a desire/destination to move. Further, I intend to be a worthwhile friend to those around me until I leave and long after. I've actually noticed lately that I've been deliberately acting selflessly with the expectation that no one will either know or thank me for it. Everyone seems to be struggling in their own ways, and it makes me happy to grease the wheels of their wagon while their back is turned. People don't like to ask for help directly; just hint that they're in trouble.
That's what I went through for years. If I can ease the troubles of the people I care about even a little, then it's worth the effort, right? But is that empathy? Or guilt..? I'm a straight, white, college-educated male from a solidly middle class family. I've had every opportunity, and I've yawned my way past most of them. I've skirted by in life, barely trying, doing just enough work to get a 'B' in life.
Meanwhile, the people around me care more, try harder, have more passion, and are still succeeding less than I am with fair regularity. Not because I'm better or doing anything more "correct" than they are. But because I got luckier than they did. I'm about as close to the top of the pyramid as you can get without being born incredibly wealthy. So maybe I do feel some sense of guilt or shame with my state in life. What have I done to really deserve this? Haven't the people around me done more? And aren't there people around them that have done even more, ad infinitum? This is somewhat fascinating, because I feel a sense of obligation towards those I love who are not as well off as me, but for everyone else in the world, I have little more than my pity to hand out.
I cannot tell if this is simply pragmatism keeping me from spending all of my time and money on a problem I'll never even scratch, or if it's self-preservation? Or maybe greed? Who will look out for those people who have so little, but have tried so hard? Because I cannot help them all, is it acceptable to help none of them? Or is that simply cowardice?
Is it thoughts like these that tears holes in my stomach lining?
Is it the obsessing over whether or not I'm doing enough?
Or is it the guilt of knowing that I don't do enough?
More likely, it's a combination of many factors, and the logician in me is giving my emotional center a nasty glare for being too "intense."
Hey, cool, so I totally rambled from topic A to topic G without spending much transitional time.
Oopsies.
-
Waddles
I've always had some inkling of that emotional desire, but it was never something that I'd felt particularly strongly. However, I've been doing a lot of mulling (read: obsessing) about my life and my relationships lately, and it occurred to me that the size of my friendgroup is diminishing (as would be expected after college), and the number of people I see on a consistent basis is continuing to decrease as well. Soon, my roommate will be gone. Without him, it's entirely possible that the weekly ritual of pizza night will falter, if not fall altogether. That may be a rather pessimistic approach by me though. I often downplay the successes I've helped to create and the effort I put into systems that I want to see function.
Still, there's a part of me that is concerned that, piece by piece, my social life here will stagnate and disappear save for two or three lights.
Moreover, I realize that Lexington is running to the end of its natural course in my life. I have graduate school to think about for next year (or possibly the year after), finding a way to live the dream with my brother sometime down the road, and figuring out where I want to end up settling down.
I can't say how much time I have left here... At least a year and a half. Maybe a little more? It probably depends on what happens between now and then.
But I am happy. And it's strange to think that finally being happy for the first time in as many years as I can remember, I would want to start over somewhere new. It's almost twistedly cruel to the people I love to have them experience me mired in depression, only to flee when I've finally started to rise out of it.
But I don't intend on shutting anyone out. I don't intend on letting the lines of communication slip and wither no matter how assured I get of a desire/destination to move. Further, I intend to be a worthwhile friend to those around me until I leave and long after. I've actually noticed lately that I've been deliberately acting selflessly with the expectation that no one will either know or thank me for it. Everyone seems to be struggling in their own ways, and it makes me happy to grease the wheels of their wagon while their back is turned. People don't like to ask for help directly; just hint that they're in trouble.
That's what I went through for years. If I can ease the troubles of the people I care about even a little, then it's worth the effort, right? But is that empathy? Or guilt..? I'm a straight, white, college-educated male from a solidly middle class family. I've had every opportunity, and I've yawned my way past most of them. I've skirted by in life, barely trying, doing just enough work to get a 'B' in life.
Meanwhile, the people around me care more, try harder, have more passion, and are still succeeding less than I am with fair regularity. Not because I'm better or doing anything more "correct" than they are. But because I got luckier than they did. I'm about as close to the top of the pyramid as you can get without being born incredibly wealthy. So maybe I do feel some sense of guilt or shame with my state in life. What have I done to really deserve this? Haven't the people around me done more? And aren't there people around them that have done even more, ad infinitum? This is somewhat fascinating, because I feel a sense of obligation towards those I love who are not as well off as me, but for everyone else in the world, I have little more than my pity to hand out.
I cannot tell if this is simply pragmatism keeping me from spending all of my time and money on a problem I'll never even scratch, or if it's self-preservation? Or maybe greed? Who will look out for those people who have so little, but have tried so hard? Because I cannot help them all, is it acceptable to help none of them? Or is that simply cowardice?
Is it thoughts like these that tears holes in my stomach lining?
Is it the obsessing over whether or not I'm doing enough?
Or is it the guilt of knowing that I don't do enough?
More likely, it's a combination of many factors, and the logician in me is giving my emotional center a nasty glare for being too "intense."
Hey, cool, so I totally rambled from topic A to topic G without spending much transitional time.
Oopsies.
-
Waddles
Monday, February 24, 2014
My Life's Music
Because anyone else cares, I'm going to wax nostalgic here for a bit. I've been in a very musical mood the last few weeks as my emotions continue to punch me like the guy who's had a few too many and won't leave the party.
My entire life from middle school onward has had a soundtrack. Not just music that I happened to love at the time, but music that my mind associates so strongly with that time that I can feel myself transported back when I listen to them. Although, I suppose this is how it is for everyone. Still, it's somewhat fascinating to sit and listen to three different songs in a row and feel profoundly changed.
All American Rejects and Something Corporate from early middle school.
Ragnarok Online's soundtrack fits in from here and extends through college, but the most prominent memories are middle school.
Assemblage 23 and VNV Nation from early high school.
Assemblage 23's album Meta for my Junior year of high school specifically.
Blue Stone was senior year of high school.
Freshman year of college beckoned my discovery of independently composed orchestra pieces. This is about the time/music for which I have the most fervent WoW nostalgia.
The summer of Freshman year also heralded the only mix tape I've ever been made that has a lot of very specific memories attached to it.
Code Geass soundtrack for Sophomore year.
Interpol and Distant Worlds were Junior year of college.
Cave Story's soundtrack is the week where I took my vow of silence.
Homestuck and Harmony of a Hunter were senior year up until the present.
I have associated Marie Mai with my run through of Fallout 3 particularly for some dumb reason.
My collection of desert songs is associated with a few obstinate memories of a woman recently.
From before that, a few lingering memories of childhood and The Cranberries along with Michael Nyman's "The Promise" are tied together.
Music has managed to leak through my soul and function as an adhesive, effectively fixing certain feelings, memories, and ideas to my heart. I've been classically conditioned to flow hither and thither on the emotional spectrum with just a few sounds.
I have become ILL! So I will not write more than this.
Sorrytimes.
My entire life from middle school onward has had a soundtrack. Not just music that I happened to love at the time, but music that my mind associates so strongly with that time that I can feel myself transported back when I listen to them. Although, I suppose this is how it is for everyone. Still, it's somewhat fascinating to sit and listen to three different songs in a row and feel profoundly changed.
All American Rejects and Something Corporate from early middle school.
Ragnarok Online's soundtrack fits in from here and extends through college, but the most prominent memories are middle school.
Assemblage 23 and VNV Nation from early high school.
Assemblage 23's album Meta for my Junior year of high school specifically.
Blue Stone was senior year of high school.
Freshman year of college beckoned my discovery of independently composed orchestra pieces. This is about the time/music for which I have the most fervent WoW nostalgia.
The summer of Freshman year also heralded the only mix tape I've ever been made that has a lot of very specific memories attached to it.
Code Geass soundtrack for Sophomore year.
Interpol and Distant Worlds were Junior year of college.
Cave Story's soundtrack is the week where I took my vow of silence.
Homestuck and Harmony of a Hunter were senior year up until the present.
I have associated Marie Mai with my run through of Fallout 3 particularly for some dumb reason.
My collection of desert songs is associated with a few obstinate memories of a woman recently.
From before that, a few lingering memories of childhood and The Cranberries along with Michael Nyman's "The Promise" are tied together.
Music has managed to leak through my soul and function as an adhesive, effectively fixing certain feelings, memories, and ideas to my heart. I've been classically conditioned to flow hither and thither on the emotional spectrum with just a few sounds.
I have become ILL! So I will not write more than this.
Sorrytimes.
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