People Aren't Toys

People we truly love are not toys we can just grow tired of and place back on the shelf after the novelty wears off. We are all subject to the same processes. All of our cognitive actions are driven by a stimulus, which then creates electrical impulses called action potentials in our neurons, which then send those signals to other neurons, which eventually reach terminals to release the neurotransmitters which will illicit the outward, physical response to said stimulus (quite simplified). Sometimes, this process can go awry. Sometimes it's induced by a substance. Sometimes, experiencing stressors over and over can cause the malfunction. Other times, it’s genetic. It can be difficult for those of us who have not experienced this process gone faulty to sympathize with and understand those who have experienced this breakdown. But it’s important to comprehend the way this process works, if nothing else, so we can recognize that those of us who are of sound mind should step in and help.

We need to be able detect when the figurative wiring of another human being needs attention and repair. We need to understand it goes beyond telling them to just “suck it up and get it together.” Understanding our own neurophysiology can only improve us as a species. We are a social species. We’re thinking, aware organisms, and regardless of one’s worldview, it’s an objective fact that we must work together and help one another in order to survive and thrive. This is true on a macro-level. This works on micro-levels as well in the form of friends and family. We form tight-knit groups within our species and we come to love those individuals within the group. When we truly love another, we will do anything we can, regardless of circumstance, past occurrences, or how far they’ve fallen to get those neurons firing back on track. Sometimes, we will even allow ourselves to be dragged down with them in doing so.

It bears repeating: people we truly love are not toys we can just grow tired of and place back on the shelf after the novelty wears off. We must exhaust all resources in lifting up and restoring those we love.

An Exposé on Keith Flick... Um... By Keith Flick

I'm overcome with the urge to put my writing skills to the test for the first time in a long time. It's been one hell of a ride for the past year, and I've changed quite a bit as a human being as a result of it. I get the feeling that many people no longer really know me. I still retain some of my familiar qualities. I'm still a raging nerd when it comes to the fiction (literature and film) I love. I still love my metal music and I still play guitar, though it's been reduced to dabbling. I'm still a sports fan, although nowhere near as rabid as I once was. I've become more of a casual sports fan, where I pay attention to the standings and watch games here and there, but I'm no longer that guy who wants to sit and analyze every aspect of a game and discuss "what might have been" after a crushing loss. I don't care about studying offseason moves. I don't get angry when my team screws up or loses. I don't rush home from work to catch the game as if my life depended on it like I once did. I still like video games, but when the hell do I have time to play them? There was a time when almost all of my free time was spent either on a console or my PC, wasting hours of the day away living out my time in a virtual fantasy world. Gaming is a very escapist hobby, as is fandom of any sort when it comes to fiction. Hell, I may even be able to attribute how enveloped I once was in these two avenues of entertainment to my relative happiness at the time. Anyway... I'm rambling. My aim with this blog post (yes, some people still use these) is to update those who have known me for years but don't really know me as well now. Also, to discuss what has been going on in my life.

First things first. I'm not going to get too specific here, but I can't go without addressing one of the biggest changes that has occurred in my life. My relationship status...

Being in love is a funny thing. Falling out of love is possibly even more bizarre. It's an odd phenomenon when you still love someone (because I really, really do love her), but you're no longer in love with them romantically. There's a desire to resist regressing back into the relationship because it would be taking the seemingly easy road, but there's also a sometimes-painful yearning for the good times. It can pop up at random moments. In the grocery store when I pick out a certain food item or when a certain song pops up on my shuffle... movies, scents, phrases, places, etc... So many things can randomly trigger the good memories and it can hurt when it happens. When one spends nearly every day for over a decade with the same person, there are many, many good times to speak of. The comfort which results from such a long-term relationship is something I never noticed until it was gone. The comfort... that's one thing I really miss. In less than a year's time, I don't remember what it means to feel completely comfortable. Now, nothing seems stable. Nothing seems certain. It can be agonizing and anxiety-inducing at times to have such a thick fog obscuring my view to the future when the way was so astonishingly clear before things changed so drastically. It can be taxing to have to navigate forward, not having the faintest notion of what I might encounter next and how it might change my life for better or for worse. But the prospect of this uncertainty can also be significantly exciting at times.

How does one handle such a situation? I can say from my own experience there are many times when I am so optimistic about my future and so confident with what I'm doing, I'm bordering on cockiness. Other times, I feel so lost and hopeless that I want to do nothing more than crawl into my bed, curl up into the fetal position and sob the day away. It's a very bipolar experience, coming to grips with the loss of a former life. One thing I have done here and there (and it's a poor strategy) is place too much reliance on others to help maintain my confidence. Relying on others from time to time for reassurance is fine, I think. To a degree, it's essential for even the most introverted of human beings. But I've overdone it. I wrap my happiness up in the attention and approval of others far too much. It isn't fair to me, and it's not fair to the people I place that burden upon (there are a select few people to whom I owe great thanks for this). I still haven't attempted to discover what it's like to truly be alone. Sure, I've spent lots of time alone, but when I'm alone I find myself constantly pining for attention by either bombarding Facebook and Twitter with posts as if to say to my friends in the social media world, "Hello! I'm here! Acknowledge me! Like my posts! Reply to my posts! Comment on them!"... or I incessantly text my friends, waiting impatiently for a reply. The fact that I'm posting this blog post could just as easily be considered a ploy for attention. But hey, at least I'm aware I'm doing it. Awareness is the first step toward correcting the problem, right? Loneliness can lead to this desperation for attention. This desperation for attention is unhealthy when one becomes fixated upon it. This fixation leads to lots of overthinking and irrational thoughts... Why didn't he/she like my post? Am I uninteresting? Don't they notice me?! Are they ever going to reply to my text?! Did I do something to piss them off?!

So unhealthy! Such insecurity from a person who once coldly scoffed at insecurity and mopey behavior (this was quite ignorant of me)! What am I? 16?

Like I said. Irrational.

A little over three years ago, I made the decision to better myself in several ways. First, I stopped smoking (which I have admittedly slipped up on during these stressful times). Then, I decided to lose weight. Next, I decided to go back to school and study for a career I know I will love. Finally, and one of the most important things of all, I decided to stop pretending to be someone I'm not in order to keep the peace with some of those people who are very close to my heart. That last statement relates to my political leanings and religious affiliation. I've been of a progressive mindset since at least the 2004 election that I can remember, but I pretended to be a bit more conservative as not to rock the boat in certain family circles. As far as my religious affiliation, well... I don't belong to one and I never really have connected with it at any point from my late teens into my adult life. I'm what some would consider an agnostic atheist. For those unfamiliar with the nomenclature behind "labeling" one's belief system, my "label" basically means that I do not claim to know if a deity/creator/"higher power" of sorts exists, but given the empirical evidence available, I see nothing close to a compelling reason to believe that a deity/deities of any specific religion exists. My scientific studies and thinking in terms of the scientific method have only solidified this position. This is all I'm going to say on that subject. When I first compiled the courage to admit this to myself, my enthusiasm for criticizing religion bordered on zealotry. Though it's still one of my goals in life to encourage critical thinking, I will do it in a way that is diplomatic. That's my style. It isn't my style to insult, so I'm not going to do that anymore. My apologies to any of my nonreligious friends who feel my approach is soft, but it takes all kinds. Don't forget that. It's hard to remember when you're part of a marginalized group like atheists, but there must be some balance in how we approach the goal to become more accepted and also in opening a dialogue with those who differ from us. Ridicule may promote critical thinking with some, but not all. Sometimes, it causes people to strengthen their defenses and exhibit an extreme confirmation bias. Again, rambling... sorry. My views have come at a cost. They've made some people very uncomfortable. It's not my fault they're uncomfortable with my views, their uneasiness is their own issue, but it is my fault for pretending they didn't reside in my head for so long and blindsiding those who thought I was someone else. I don't apologize for where I stand, but I do apologize for being phony out of fear for so many years.

I find it very ironic that when I made these decisions to better myself, within the span of a few years, I find myself a separated, 35-year-old man in college, waiting tables at a restaurant, and living like someone several years his junior most days. It's both liberating and terrifying at the same time. Three years ago, I was working a 9-5-style job, Monday through Friday, making a great salary with all the benefits included. My thoughts were centered on very different things. When should we seriously start talking about having children (we had, but we were always wishy-washy)? How much longer are we staying in this house? Should we tear down and build or should we go back to renting? We have to consider the dogs too! When is the next time we're going to get together with all of the other married couples we're friends with? Where are we going on vacation this year?

I was an adult. I was a standard American, middle class adult. Now I'm rebuilding. I've toppled my very structure and now I begin to assemble from scratch. I come with new tools and materials, and thus far, I do it virtually alone.

But I am resilient. I am strong. I am capable. I am worthy. And I will succeed.

If you've made it this far, thank you for taking the time to read about me. I think being candid about oneself is therapeutic sometimes and writing this has been just that. I don't want pity. I don't need encouragement. I just want people to know me for me and no one else. If you're my friend and you care about me as I care about you (because if I call you my friend, you can damn sure bet I care about you a great deal), you deserve that.