The following are things that I fear on a daily basis. Not things such as barfing, or clowns, or things flying around my head. This isn't about my absolute fear of being trapped in a butterfly conservatory with a bunch of barfing children and having clowns as tour guides. These are completely different fears, and if my last sentence didn't scare you off, and you choose to keep reading, you'll see what I mean. I think they're regular fears we've all had and continue to sometimes battle; I'm just in the mood to voice them.
I fear change. For someone who likes the thrill of the hunt, and likes experiencing new things, I really hate any change to the life that I know & live on a daily basis. I take it personally when someone moves a piece of furniture. I fear building a really great life around me, and suddenly having it stripped away.
I fear losing friends. I have some really, really awesome friends. I say "really, really awesome" because I honestly have no idea how to describe them any other way. Any attempt at describing them using sophisticated, yarn-spinning language wouldn't do justice, so i might as well just use really lame, mundane words, because at least they're absolute and true. But seriously, I have a really great group of friends who are some of the most amazing, down to earth, fun people I know. I fear losing that, because as you get older true friends become harder to find. I like surrounding myself with positive people; people who don't have an agenda.
I fear gaining weight. Now, this probably sounds like something most people fear, right? And of course it is. But I really do drive myself crazy sometimes fearing that I'll gain back all of the weight that I lost 2 years ago. The biggest difference isn't in new found confidence, but in how much better people treat you when you aren't overweight. I don't get weird looks in the gym. People hold doors for me now. I can go eat somewhere without condescending looks. And most importantly, random people talk to me, because they magically view you as a worthy, self-respecting person the second you aren't fat.
I fear my anxiety coming back. It came back. It came back in December after being gone for over 2 years. It's kept me from doing things in the past, and I fear it'll have the same effect in the future. I fight the anxiety demon regularly, and it's not as bad now as it was in December & January, but it still lingers. I went on a date with a girl to Tim Horton's a few weeks ago, and my anxiety took over the day before and made me feel very nervous, which made me not feel good. Not feeling good lead me to get even more anxious about possibly being sick, which nearly kept me from going on the date. Whilst on the date, I probably spent 75% of the time talking, because I felt if I didn't talk I was going to puke. We never went on a second date.
I fear not being cool enough. Cool is a really silly word. It's an elementary school word that has sort of hung around like a bad smell and is still a word in everyone's vocabularies today, aside from it being "cool outside." I don't know if anyone is truly cool, or what defines cool, but I guess I fear not being as interesting as other people. I fear that others are doing way more exciting things than I am. While I'm catching up on the latest episodes of Rick & Morty, I sort of just assume that everyone else is out having a beer with someone awesome, or just generally living an interesting life.
I fear not meeting a girl. Sounds mushy, is sort of mushy, so I won't spend too much time on it. But it's true though.
I'm a 20 year-old guy who has spent the vast, vast majority of his life
single. Not that that's necessarily a bad thing. I'd rather not be in a
relationship than be in one with the wrong person, but at times it
really does start to become a bummer. Being single can be fun and
exciting, but there's nothing wrong with finding a really nice person
who compliments your personality, and having them as a regular facet in
your life.
I fear doing nothing/not being relevant. This sort of comes from the cool point, but I really do hate not doing anything. I did nothing for a whole year when I dropped out. Then I did nothing but tennis and sports and shit for two years, but at least I was doing something then. I just really hate feeling like I'm not contributing something either to the world or to myself. I could take a train to downtown Toronto with a few buddies, hang out downtown for the day, grab an amazing meal, then hit a pre-game festival and take in a game. I can train it back, and arrive around midnight. The second I sit down at 12:10am and realize that I'm not doing anything, I begin to feel that itch, despite the fact I just spent a day downtown enjoying life. The second I'm not doing something, I worry that means I'm not relevant, or not exciting. The second I'm not preoccupying my brain, I begin to try and think of ways to preoccupy my brain.
I fear a lot of things. These are really only a few prime examples I could think of at the moment, but they're major players in my everyday life and thoughts.
So let me ask, what do you fear?
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Wednesday, April 2, 2014
From The Couch
The couch that I'm writing this from is the same couch that I've been stuck on for the past 5 & a half weeks. It's a couch that I've had a lot of time to sit on and think. It's a couch that I'm probably going to avoid when I get out of this cast in 5 days.
When I broke my ankle 5 and a half weeks ago, I really didn't think I broke it. I got up, feeling embarrassed that I took yet another spill while skating, and prepared myself to keep on going, and to fall again. Instead, I stood there, both skates on the ice, wondering why the pain wasn't slowly getting better, and why it was so much different than any minor tweak I had experienced before.
I stood in the same spot for a couple of minutes, then finally decided to try and skate it off. I skated to the other end of the rink, but every time I put my right skate down, it felt a lot more wobbly than it had just a few minutes ago. I finally got to the boards and stood there for another few minutes, until I decided to test out my leg. I lifted my good leg, and magically, I couldn't feel my right leg or foot anymore, and almost went down.
Fast forward now past me getting off the ice, going to the hospital, having a nurse laugh at how I stupidly injured myself, and the doctor coming in and telling me I broke my fibula. I'm on crutches now, in a tenser-wrapped splint that eventually became an air cast.
Five and a half weeks have gone by since then; and in that time, I've really had no other option but to stay at home when I'm not at school, and sort of just wait for the time to pass.
Before I broke my ankle, I would usually go out somewhere after school. Whether it was for a short drive, or to pick up a friend, or just to find somewhere to go, I went. I'd try and avoid coming home at all costs, not because of anyone or anything at home, but because I don't really feel comfortable with the idea of facing my thoughts, and not having something to occupy my brain.
In being stuck like this, I've had no other choice but to be stuck with myself, which has brought on both good and bad. It's good, because it's good to confront things that make you uncomfortable. It's good to push yourself, and hope that you can get past that certain thing weighing you down. At the same time though, it's been tough. I've had periods where I've felt like I lost all of my determination to get better, or to work on school, or to interact with anyone. At times, I've felt like all I want to do is sit and think about how much I hate being like this.
I've also had to learn how to plan ahead, but also to focus short term as well.
While in the past I feel like I've had a good mix of these, they were sort of on different terms while being non-weight bearing in a cast. In the long term, I had to plan ahead what I'd need in the hours to come, so that I could have it close by, or how I'd do something on crutches, or get somewhere on crutches. At the same time though, and almost for the exact same reasons, I've had to learn how to do things very short term as well. When you're on crutches, you're sort of at everyone's mercy. You can't drive, you can't carry things, and you really just can't fend for yourself. So you sort of need to plan in the now when you know that someone has a free moment.
And while I'm on the topic of people, I really can't understate just how appreciative I am of everyone who has helped me. I've really become extremely dependent, and so many people have been there to help me out, and have made this whole situation that much easier. Especially my mom, who has basically become my driver everywhere, and has helped me so much at home.
I joked the night after this happened to someone that I went from watching "how-to" videos on youtube of how to skate, to watching how-to videos on how to use crutches on stairs, and that I had sort of gone full-circle. I suppose in another sense I've gone full-circle in that I was planning on blogging about being a 20 year-old learning how to skate, to now possibly blogging about my rehabbing process.
Anyways, I just wanted to share those few thoughts on what has been going through my head these past weeks. I've certainly gained a larger appreciation for walking, and for those who still continue to work and actively do things despite a major disability.
When I see someone else on crutches, I'll happily go running to help them out...that is, when I can run.
Thanks for reading.
When I broke my ankle 5 and a half weeks ago, I really didn't think I broke it. I got up, feeling embarrassed that I took yet another spill while skating, and prepared myself to keep on going, and to fall again. Instead, I stood there, both skates on the ice, wondering why the pain wasn't slowly getting better, and why it was so much different than any minor tweak I had experienced before.
I stood in the same spot for a couple of minutes, then finally decided to try and skate it off. I skated to the other end of the rink, but every time I put my right skate down, it felt a lot more wobbly than it had just a few minutes ago. I finally got to the boards and stood there for another few minutes, until I decided to test out my leg. I lifted my good leg, and magically, I couldn't feel my right leg or foot anymore, and almost went down.
Fast forward now past me getting off the ice, going to the hospital, having a nurse laugh at how I stupidly injured myself, and the doctor coming in and telling me I broke my fibula. I'm on crutches now, in a tenser-wrapped splint that eventually became an air cast.
Five and a half weeks have gone by since then; and in that time, I've really had no other option but to stay at home when I'm not at school, and sort of just wait for the time to pass.
Before I broke my ankle, I would usually go out somewhere after school. Whether it was for a short drive, or to pick up a friend, or just to find somewhere to go, I went. I'd try and avoid coming home at all costs, not because of anyone or anything at home, but because I don't really feel comfortable with the idea of facing my thoughts, and not having something to occupy my brain.
In being stuck like this, I've had no other choice but to be stuck with myself, which has brought on both good and bad. It's good, because it's good to confront things that make you uncomfortable. It's good to push yourself, and hope that you can get past that certain thing weighing you down. At the same time though, it's been tough. I've had periods where I've felt like I lost all of my determination to get better, or to work on school, or to interact with anyone. At times, I've felt like all I want to do is sit and think about how much I hate being like this.
I've also had to learn how to plan ahead, but also to focus short term as well.
While in the past I feel like I've had a good mix of these, they were sort of on different terms while being non-weight bearing in a cast. In the long term, I had to plan ahead what I'd need in the hours to come, so that I could have it close by, or how I'd do something on crutches, or get somewhere on crutches. At the same time though, and almost for the exact same reasons, I've had to learn how to do things very short term as well. When you're on crutches, you're sort of at everyone's mercy. You can't drive, you can't carry things, and you really just can't fend for yourself. So you sort of need to plan in the now when you know that someone has a free moment.
And while I'm on the topic of people, I really can't understate just how appreciative I am of everyone who has helped me. I've really become extremely dependent, and so many people have been there to help me out, and have made this whole situation that much easier. Especially my mom, who has basically become my driver everywhere, and has helped me so much at home.
I joked the night after this happened to someone that I went from watching "how-to" videos on youtube of how to skate, to watching how-to videos on how to use crutches on stairs, and that I had sort of gone full-circle. I suppose in another sense I've gone full-circle in that I was planning on blogging about being a 20 year-old learning how to skate, to now possibly blogging about my rehabbing process.
Anyways, I just wanted to share those few thoughts on what has been going through my head these past weeks. I've certainly gained a larger appreciation for walking, and for those who still continue to work and actively do things despite a major disability.
When I see someone else on crutches, I'll happily go running to help them out...that is, when I can run.
Thanks for reading.
Wednesday, January 8, 2014
Restarting
I would like to start off this post by saying that I have anxiety issues.
Anxiety.
There, I said it. I said one of those words that so many of us are afraid of, myself included. We're scared of things like OCD, and depression, and anxiety (just to name a few). And I think we're scared because as humans we're naturally control freaks to a certain degree. We have these bodies that we're in, and these brains and hearts and other organs that function, and with that we sort of assume that we should be in control of them at all times. By admitting to having some sort of mental illness to that degree, we sort of admit that we don't always have that control, and that's scary.
Anxiety is wading. It doesn't just leave and go away forever. It's this demon that you sort of have to battle, and it improves, and gets worse, and really just goes through the motions depending on what's going on in your life. I've had dark times where my anxiety crippled me to a point where I didn't want to do anything, where I came to terms with the fact I was this anxiety ridden misfit who wouldn't accomplish anything because he was scared of everything. I've also had the polar opposite where my anxiety hadn't touched me in months, and that was the case up until recently.
A lot of my anxiety is caused by a fear of feeling ill, and by fearing that, I end up feeling ill as a result of the anxiety. Now, I hadn't gotten sick in quite a few years, three years in fact, so my anxiety about that had gotten to a point of near non-existence. But that came to a grinding halt recently when in the first week of December I ended up getting really ill, on top of having one of my best friends leave for two years, in which I can have very little contact with him. It sort of came out of no where, and I soldiered through it, but it sort of brought back that anxiety because it brought me back down to earth about the fact that I can get sick, and it reminded me of just have damn awful it can be.
I'm also a part time germaphobe; a word which my computer refuses to recognize as legitimate, but it's real. That germaphobia made me really crazy about things at one point about 2 years back. I had gotten rid of some anxiety, but I replaced it by constantly hand sanitizing, and just not even touching things while being out; I became Howie Mandel when he actually had hair.
So as I was saying, I got sick, I also got better. I was super ill the Friday it started, and by Saturday I was already eating lots of crackers and going through quite a few water bottles. But I knew that once I got better, the creeping fear of getting sick would come back. Thing is though, it wasn't so much a fear of getting sick again, as much as it was the fear of fearing getting sick again.
I've said this repeatedly, but I'm a big believer that the #1 issue within anxiety is the fear of having the anxiety. You enter such a dark place when you're going through the anxiety attacks, a much darker place than when you're sick with a 12 hour bug.
So I've been struggling. I've been struggling with the reemergence of my anxiety to a degree, and somehow trying to find a way to get past that. And I write all of this stuff not for people to go "Oh, poor you" or anything like that. I don't want that, I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I'm typing all of this stuff because I feel it's important to make public one's issues with mental illness. Even if it doesn't spur someone else to go and write about their issues (snowball effect), it does show people that there are others out there dealing with these issues, and that they're not alone at all.
I also take this comfort in writing. It's like a warm blanket for me. Maybe because I'm keeping my fingers moving while my whole body wants to crumble under the pressure of anxiety. Maybe because by making my brain process everything, it helps it realize that we all deal with these things, and that this is just one instance of it.
But I really take comfort in it, and I can't even explain properly how much having the ability to write means to me.
I've learned that I really know myself. I know myself to a very deep level that I trust my gut on almost every first gut feeling I get. I know what I like, I know who I like. But what I struggle with is understanding myself. While I may know things, I don't really understand how or why I am a certain way, just as we don't understand why others act a certain way. I sometimes feel like I'm a total stranger to myself, because (like with the onset of anxiety) I can go from one guy who has the whole game working for him with no worries, to this guy who is having regular anxiety attacks again.
I also know what I want to be, but I can't understand why I have such a difficult time accomplishing getting there, being that person. I like who I am, I really do. When I was in high school I didn't like myself, and therefore it made it hard for others to like me, because I was always molding myself to what I thought everyone wanted me to be, but you can't please everyone. So in the course of being out of school between leaving school and entering college, I really learned to like myself and appreciate who I am and my journey. At the same time though, I really wish I could care less about things like getting sick, like how others treat me, like different relationships and hardships I carry.
But alas, I am who I am; and maybe that's one of the biggest keys to happiness and learning not to care so much, is just total acceptance. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always in control of our thoughts. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always who we want ourselves to be. Maybe we need to understand that sometimes, we just don't understand; and that's okay.
Understanding and accepting are two totally different things. But if you can somehow understand AND accept that you're an ever evolving person, thrown into this world with other evolving people, maybe we can come to terms with the fact that perfection isn't a reality.
Life is this beautiful mess of screw-ups and accomplishments. It's punching your fist into a wall out of frustration, then in the future punching the air like Tiger Woods when you just accomplished something you never thought possible.
I need to get back to embracing those lows, because I know more highs are on the way.
Anxiety.
There, I said it. I said one of those words that so many of us are afraid of, myself included. We're scared of things like OCD, and depression, and anxiety (just to name a few). And I think we're scared because as humans we're naturally control freaks to a certain degree. We have these bodies that we're in, and these brains and hearts and other organs that function, and with that we sort of assume that we should be in control of them at all times. By admitting to having some sort of mental illness to that degree, we sort of admit that we don't always have that control, and that's scary.
Anxiety is wading. It doesn't just leave and go away forever. It's this demon that you sort of have to battle, and it improves, and gets worse, and really just goes through the motions depending on what's going on in your life. I've had dark times where my anxiety crippled me to a point where I didn't want to do anything, where I came to terms with the fact I was this anxiety ridden misfit who wouldn't accomplish anything because he was scared of everything. I've also had the polar opposite where my anxiety hadn't touched me in months, and that was the case up until recently.
A lot of my anxiety is caused by a fear of feeling ill, and by fearing that, I end up feeling ill as a result of the anxiety. Now, I hadn't gotten sick in quite a few years, three years in fact, so my anxiety about that had gotten to a point of near non-existence. But that came to a grinding halt recently when in the first week of December I ended up getting really ill, on top of having one of my best friends leave for two years, in which I can have very little contact with him. It sort of came out of no where, and I soldiered through it, but it sort of brought back that anxiety because it brought me back down to earth about the fact that I can get sick, and it reminded me of just have damn awful it can be.
I'm also a part time germaphobe; a word which my computer refuses to recognize as legitimate, but it's real. That germaphobia made me really crazy about things at one point about 2 years back. I had gotten rid of some anxiety, but I replaced it by constantly hand sanitizing, and just not even touching things while being out; I became Howie Mandel when he actually had hair.
So as I was saying, I got sick, I also got better. I was super ill the Friday it started, and by Saturday I was already eating lots of crackers and going through quite a few water bottles. But I knew that once I got better, the creeping fear of getting sick would come back. Thing is though, it wasn't so much a fear of getting sick again, as much as it was the fear of fearing getting sick again.
I've said this repeatedly, but I'm a big believer that the #1 issue within anxiety is the fear of having the anxiety. You enter such a dark place when you're going through the anxiety attacks, a much darker place than when you're sick with a 12 hour bug.
So I've been struggling. I've been struggling with the reemergence of my anxiety to a degree, and somehow trying to find a way to get past that. And I write all of this stuff not for people to go "Oh, poor you" or anything like that. I don't want that, I don't like people feeling sorry for me. I'm typing all of this stuff because I feel it's important to make public one's issues with mental illness. Even if it doesn't spur someone else to go and write about their issues (snowball effect), it does show people that there are others out there dealing with these issues, and that they're not alone at all.
I also take this comfort in writing. It's like a warm blanket for me. Maybe because I'm keeping my fingers moving while my whole body wants to crumble under the pressure of anxiety. Maybe because by making my brain process everything, it helps it realize that we all deal with these things, and that this is just one instance of it.
But I really take comfort in it, and I can't even explain properly how much having the ability to write means to me.
I've learned that I really know myself. I know myself to a very deep level that I trust my gut on almost every first gut feeling I get. I know what I like, I know who I like. But what I struggle with is understanding myself. While I may know things, I don't really understand how or why I am a certain way, just as we don't understand why others act a certain way. I sometimes feel like I'm a total stranger to myself, because (like with the onset of anxiety) I can go from one guy who has the whole game working for him with no worries, to this guy who is having regular anxiety attacks again.
I also know what I want to be, but I can't understand why I have such a difficult time accomplishing getting there, being that person. I like who I am, I really do. When I was in high school I didn't like myself, and therefore it made it hard for others to like me, because I was always molding myself to what I thought everyone wanted me to be, but you can't please everyone. So in the course of being out of school between leaving school and entering college, I really learned to like myself and appreciate who I am and my journey. At the same time though, I really wish I could care less about things like getting sick, like how others treat me, like different relationships and hardships I carry.
But alas, I am who I am; and maybe that's one of the biggest keys to happiness and learning not to care so much, is just total acceptance. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always in control of our thoughts. Maybe we need to accept that we aren't always who we want ourselves to be. Maybe we need to understand that sometimes, we just don't understand; and that's okay.
Understanding and accepting are two totally different things. But if you can somehow understand AND accept that you're an ever evolving person, thrown into this world with other evolving people, maybe we can come to terms with the fact that perfection isn't a reality.
Life is this beautiful mess of screw-ups and accomplishments. It's punching your fist into a wall out of frustration, then in the future punching the air like Tiger Woods when you just accomplished something you never thought possible.
I need to get back to embracing those lows, because I know more highs are on the way.
Wednesday, December 18, 2013
The Power in Writing
I began writing rap lyrics in grade 8.
I was going through a really tough time with some personal things, and I missed a lot of school because of it. I lost a lot of friendships, gained a lot of enemies, and suddenly became immersed in the music of Eminem. Rap became an outlet of sorts, where I was able to express a lot of the pain I was feeling in an artistic manner, and get decent support because of it.
This continued through grade 9 and grade 10. Whenever I felt the need to vent my frustrations, I would either pick up a pen and paper, or open up a new notepad document on my computer.
I even got pretty good at it. I got to the point where I was mixing different rhymes inside a sentence or two, and they all had a really good flow to them. I viewed it as art and as expressionism. I viewed it as a way of getting people's attention. Sometimes that attention was good, and sometimes it was bad; but it didn't really matter to me, because all I wanted was the attention.
Those raps were very dark, because for years even before I left school I think I was in a fairly dark place. I really didn't like myself, and felt that I needed everyone's approval to be considered a worthy human-being.
So eventually the lyrics of my raps sort of came back to bite me in the butt, and the blatant "misinterpretation" of some of the lyrics was one of the driving forces in me leaving school, fueled by someone's extreme distaste towards me, but that's a totally different story.
When I left school in grade 11, I continued to write raps for about 3 or 4 months, until I got to the point where I felt I sort of plateaued in terms of my ability to express myself through them. The constant need for rhythm and rhyming sort of hindered my ability to truly express what I was feeling, so I turned to blogging.
I've been blogging for exactly 3 years now, albeit infrequently. As times got darker, my blogs became not just a place where I could write and then post those thoughts to the world, but where I could read over my own thoughts and see from a different view what I was going through. Reading my own pieces often brought me to tears, just seeing how dark of a place I was in, but it helped me better understand that place and has continually been a source for helping me appreciate how far I've come.
I've written a lot about mental health. I've typed the words "anxiety" and "depression" multiple times. I've written about what happened that caused me to leave school. I've written a letter to myself from 5 years ago, outlining some of the struggle I'd go through, but that I'd ultimately make it through it.
I've gotten a lot of feedback on my pieces. One blog I remember writing in particular got retweeted by a fairly big mental health advocate, and I remember getting probably a solid 30 @ replies from others who had struggled with anxiety as well. That's something that I'll never forget, because as much as I may write for myself, hearing other people take comfort in that someone else has gone through something means the world to me.
Writing is this beautiful, powerful thing that we've been given. To make up words, and now, in this day and age, to put them onto a large platform gives us this extraordinary amount of power.
Writing, when done right, is more than just words. It's a big "I'VE BEEN THERE" to people who struggle with things you're writing about. It's a big "CHECK THIS OUT, WE SHOULD PROBABLY CARE ABOUT THIS CAUSE" when writing about something people may not know about or fully understand. And in my opinion, being good at writing really only comes down to one thing: Humility.
You can use all of the big, eye grabbing words in the dictionary. You can spin a yarn for miles on words and majestic images that people ohh and aww at in their minds, but nothing will ever beat having the ability to say "This is who I am, these are my thoughts. I'm not perfect, but I'd like to share my opinions with you." Writing isn't about who's better at painting pictures with words, it's about how you can connect on an emotional and human level with the people reading what you wrote. Making those people feel what you felt; making people care about about the subject you wrote about, is exactly the power that we have with writing.
I'll end on this quote:
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”- Ernest Hemingway.
I was going through a really tough time with some personal things, and I missed a lot of school because of it. I lost a lot of friendships, gained a lot of enemies, and suddenly became immersed in the music of Eminem. Rap became an outlet of sorts, where I was able to express a lot of the pain I was feeling in an artistic manner, and get decent support because of it.
This continued through grade 9 and grade 10. Whenever I felt the need to vent my frustrations, I would either pick up a pen and paper, or open up a new notepad document on my computer.
I even got pretty good at it. I got to the point where I was mixing different rhymes inside a sentence or two, and they all had a really good flow to them. I viewed it as art and as expressionism. I viewed it as a way of getting people's attention. Sometimes that attention was good, and sometimes it was bad; but it didn't really matter to me, because all I wanted was the attention.
Those raps were very dark, because for years even before I left school I think I was in a fairly dark place. I really didn't like myself, and felt that I needed everyone's approval to be considered a worthy human-being.
So eventually the lyrics of my raps sort of came back to bite me in the butt, and the blatant "misinterpretation" of some of the lyrics was one of the driving forces in me leaving school, fueled by someone's extreme distaste towards me, but that's a totally different story.
When I left school in grade 11, I continued to write raps for about 3 or 4 months, until I got to the point where I felt I sort of plateaued in terms of my ability to express myself through them. The constant need for rhythm and rhyming sort of hindered my ability to truly express what I was feeling, so I turned to blogging.
I've been blogging for exactly 3 years now, albeit infrequently. As times got darker, my blogs became not just a place where I could write and then post those thoughts to the world, but where I could read over my own thoughts and see from a different view what I was going through. Reading my own pieces often brought me to tears, just seeing how dark of a place I was in, but it helped me better understand that place and has continually been a source for helping me appreciate how far I've come.
I've written a lot about mental health. I've typed the words "anxiety" and "depression" multiple times. I've written about what happened that caused me to leave school. I've written a letter to myself from 5 years ago, outlining some of the struggle I'd go through, but that I'd ultimately make it through it.
I've gotten a lot of feedback on my pieces. One blog I remember writing in particular got retweeted by a fairly big mental health advocate, and I remember getting probably a solid 30 @ replies from others who had struggled with anxiety as well. That's something that I'll never forget, because as much as I may write for myself, hearing other people take comfort in that someone else has gone through something means the world to me.
Writing is this beautiful, powerful thing that we've been given. To make up words, and now, in this day and age, to put them onto a large platform gives us this extraordinary amount of power.
Writing, when done right, is more than just words. It's a big "I'VE BEEN THERE" to people who struggle with things you're writing about. It's a big "CHECK THIS OUT, WE SHOULD PROBABLY CARE ABOUT THIS CAUSE" when writing about something people may not know about or fully understand. And in my opinion, being good at writing really only comes down to one thing: Humility.
You can use all of the big, eye grabbing words in the dictionary. You can spin a yarn for miles on words and majestic images that people ohh and aww at in their minds, but nothing will ever beat having the ability to say "This is who I am, these are my thoughts. I'm not perfect, but I'd like to share my opinions with you." Writing isn't about who's better at painting pictures with words, it's about how you can connect on an emotional and human level with the people reading what you wrote. Making those people feel what you felt; making people care about about the subject you wrote about, is exactly the power that we have with writing.
I'll end on this quote:
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.”- Ernest Hemingway.
Wednesday, November 13, 2013
That Creative Itch
I get this itch when I'm not doing anything; this itch that drives me to want to create something new, or say something different.
Every night, when I sit down at my computer, I stare at it long and hard and decide if tonight is the night. Is this the night I express something that's weighing on me? Is this the night I publish a blog? Or go on a social media rant about something I care about, hoping to garner people's attention?
One of my biggest struggles when I was out of school was finding ways to be productive. Sure, I could have done online school like I was supposed to, but that wasn't any fun! So I went through this daily battle, much like I do to this day, figuring out how I'd express myself.
Problem is, there becomes a point when you say so many things and express your thoughts on so many topics at so many times that people stop paying attention. The more you say, the less people will listen; the more you write, the less people will read.
Fact is, people begin to take less & less stock in what you have to say the more you say it. That doesn't mean that you should be hesitant about saying anything, or strategically plan saying certain things at certain times, but I think it does mean that you should at least think through if what you're about to say is really worth other people's time.
But this becomes hard. As a guy who fights this itch every night knowing that he can't scratch it, it becomes unbearable at times. It's this constant battle between A) I really do have something to say, and B) I just want to post something so that people will read it.
I was naive in thinking that being in school would erase that itch. If anything, that itch has gotten stronger, because I'm in school where I have the opportunity to create things occasionally, then I get home and I don't really have that anymore. It becomes this obsessive need to be doing something; to, in my eyes, make something of myself and my time.
So it becomes this battle of wills. In the blue corner, we have the part of me that wants to be seen. In the red corner, we have the part of me that wants to be heard.
Being heard should ALWAYS be the top priority. There are people who say and post things constantly out of wanting to be seen. We know who those people are, and some might even say there's a special place in hell for them.
But seriously, there's a reason why we know who they are, and lets be honest for a second, do we EVER read their stuff? No! It sort of becomes this case of the boy who cried wolf, except nobody cried wolf, they cried attention. And when that happens, something of actual value or importance may get lost because nobody bothers to pay attention to that person. If 1/20 things they say are of actual interest to others, what are the odds of people seeing that one thing, when they learn to scan over the other 19.
Anyways, I get the sense I might sound like a bit of jerk in this, and that definitely wasn't my attention. All I'm trying to say is that I have this itch, and I have a feeling of needing to be doing something because if I'm doing nothing, I feel less important. I think other people probably feel that way too, a lot more than we'd like to admit.
Every night, when I sit down at my computer, I stare at it long and hard and decide if tonight is the night. Is this the night I express something that's weighing on me? Is this the night I publish a blog? Or go on a social media rant about something I care about, hoping to garner people's attention?
One of my biggest struggles when I was out of school was finding ways to be productive. Sure, I could have done online school like I was supposed to, but that wasn't any fun! So I went through this daily battle, much like I do to this day, figuring out how I'd express myself.
Problem is, there becomes a point when you say so many things and express your thoughts on so many topics at so many times that people stop paying attention. The more you say, the less people will listen; the more you write, the less people will read.
Fact is, people begin to take less & less stock in what you have to say the more you say it. That doesn't mean that you should be hesitant about saying anything, or strategically plan saying certain things at certain times, but I think it does mean that you should at least think through if what you're about to say is really worth other people's time.
But this becomes hard. As a guy who fights this itch every night knowing that he can't scratch it, it becomes unbearable at times. It's this constant battle between A) I really do have something to say, and B) I just want to post something so that people will read it.
I was naive in thinking that being in school would erase that itch. If anything, that itch has gotten stronger, because I'm in school where I have the opportunity to create things occasionally, then I get home and I don't really have that anymore. It becomes this obsessive need to be doing something; to, in my eyes, make something of myself and my time.
So it becomes this battle of wills. In the blue corner, we have the part of me that wants to be seen. In the red corner, we have the part of me that wants to be heard.
Being heard should ALWAYS be the top priority. There are people who say and post things constantly out of wanting to be seen. We know who those people are, and some might even say there's a special place in hell for them.
But seriously, there's a reason why we know who they are, and lets be honest for a second, do we EVER read their stuff? No! It sort of becomes this case of the boy who cried wolf, except nobody cried wolf, they cried attention. And when that happens, something of actual value or importance may get lost because nobody bothers to pay attention to that person. If 1/20 things they say are of actual interest to others, what are the odds of people seeing that one thing, when they learn to scan over the other 19.
Anyways, I get the sense I might sound like a bit of jerk in this, and that definitely wasn't my attention. All I'm trying to say is that I have this itch, and I have a feeling of needing to be doing something because if I'm doing nothing, I feel less important. I think other people probably feel that way too, a lot more than we'd like to admit.
Wednesday, October 16, 2013
Don't Fight Alone
I'm not the most frequent blogger out there. In fact, it's taken me since march to figure out something I wanted to blog about.
But I feel particularly inclined to write. I feel like I need to express a part of my life and something I did to help myself, so that others will hopefully take that advice and get the help they need too.
First off - If I sound a little "newsy" or whatever you wanna call it, please excuse it. I haven't blogged in months, and I've done a lot of news writing pieces for school since then, so this might be a combination of news writing, opinion, 3rd person, reflection, and whatever else you can throw into a blog.
Now, I want to talk about anxiety. The height of my anxiety was around Spring 2011. I had been out of school early for about 5 or 6 months at this point, and way behind because I wasn't doing my online school work. My anxiety riddled me, and it was a battle I was fighting alone because I was too ashamed to admit to anyone what I was going through.
There's this stigma that surrounds anxiety, and mental illness as a whole, that if you have a mental illness you are either A) Weak B) Unstable or C) Crazy.
All three are false.
While I can't deny that you encounter some interesting characters in the waiting room at a therapist's place in a hospital, I can say that you aren't crazy, weak or unstable for having a mental illness. Having a mental illness doesn't emasculate you; it doesn't bring down your worthiness as a human being.
Unfortunately though, there is that stigma that surrounds it, and that stigma is the exact reason that people never come out to others for support about what they're going through. You don't want to tell people that you shake like a leaf at all hours of the night, sweating and having a panic attack with tunnel vision, thinking you'd rather be dead than where you are right now.
You don't want to say "Hey mom, listen; don't take this the wrong way, but I fucking hate my life right now. I can't stand it. I dread every second of every day because I fear life. I fear anxiety and I fear every minute that comes because I don't know what it'll bring, so don't even get me started on the future."
Nobody wants to do that. Hell, even as someone who has done that, I wouldn't wanna do it again.
I'm not going to sugar coat it - it is HARD to admit to someone what you're going through. It feels like this rush of everything that you've gone through up to that moment, but it's all happening in one split second. You can see the person's facial expression, as they soak it all in. You can see the pain, and the empathy in their eyes and maybe you love it, or maybe you hate. Either way, it is SO necessary to come out to someone about what you're going through.
Mental illness is such a tough battle. It's a big opponent, and one that you shouldn't fight alone. Nobody deserves to go through it. Nobody deserves to be feeling like every day is a new day trapped in their own personal prison cell - that prison cell being their brain.
It is so essential for you to seek help. It is so essential for you to battle this head on, but to battle it with others by your side. Don't let it linger, don't let it continue to get worse to the point where you can't take it anymore.
When I admitted to my mom that I was having severe anxiety, things didn't get better right away; in fact, they got worse.
Because I had admitted everything I was going through to her, we began to face everything head on. I stopped pretending that it was okay, and really went after my demons, which is probably the most difficult part of the battle. It's hard to face what you're going through, and it's hard to dive right on in and tackle it head on, but when you do that, you slowly start coming up to the surface. Slowly but surely you begin to understand that you're not in this alone, and that there are solutions and fixes to what you're going through. Slowly but surely, you begin to heal.
So please, don't be afraid to open up to someone. Whether it's a friend, family member, or someone that you feel wouldn't pass any judgement; Just please, do it.
I'll end on this quote:
"You don't have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you." - Dan Millman.
But I feel particularly inclined to write. I feel like I need to express a part of my life and something I did to help myself, so that others will hopefully take that advice and get the help they need too.
First off - If I sound a little "newsy" or whatever you wanna call it, please excuse it. I haven't blogged in months, and I've done a lot of news writing pieces for school since then, so this might be a combination of news writing, opinion, 3rd person, reflection, and whatever else you can throw into a blog.
Now, I want to talk about anxiety. The height of my anxiety was around Spring 2011. I had been out of school early for about 5 or 6 months at this point, and way behind because I wasn't doing my online school work. My anxiety riddled me, and it was a battle I was fighting alone because I was too ashamed to admit to anyone what I was going through.
There's this stigma that surrounds anxiety, and mental illness as a whole, that if you have a mental illness you are either A) Weak B) Unstable or C) Crazy.
All three are false.
While I can't deny that you encounter some interesting characters in the waiting room at a therapist's place in a hospital, I can say that you aren't crazy, weak or unstable for having a mental illness. Having a mental illness doesn't emasculate you; it doesn't bring down your worthiness as a human being.
Unfortunately though, there is that stigma that surrounds it, and that stigma is the exact reason that people never come out to others for support about what they're going through. You don't want to tell people that you shake like a leaf at all hours of the night, sweating and having a panic attack with tunnel vision, thinking you'd rather be dead than where you are right now.
You don't want to say "Hey mom, listen; don't take this the wrong way, but I fucking hate my life right now. I can't stand it. I dread every second of every day because I fear life. I fear anxiety and I fear every minute that comes because I don't know what it'll bring, so don't even get me started on the future."
Nobody wants to do that. Hell, even as someone who has done that, I wouldn't wanna do it again.
I'm not going to sugar coat it - it is HARD to admit to someone what you're going through. It feels like this rush of everything that you've gone through up to that moment, but it's all happening in one split second. You can see the person's facial expression, as they soak it all in. You can see the pain, and the empathy in their eyes and maybe you love it, or maybe you hate. Either way, it is SO necessary to come out to someone about what you're going through.
Mental illness is such a tough battle. It's a big opponent, and one that you shouldn't fight alone. Nobody deserves to go through it. Nobody deserves to be feeling like every day is a new day trapped in their own personal prison cell - that prison cell being their brain.
It is so essential for you to seek help. It is so essential for you to battle this head on, but to battle it with others by your side. Don't let it linger, don't let it continue to get worse to the point where you can't take it anymore.
When I admitted to my mom that I was having severe anxiety, things didn't get better right away; in fact, they got worse.
Because I had admitted everything I was going through to her, we began to face everything head on. I stopped pretending that it was okay, and really went after my demons, which is probably the most difficult part of the battle. It's hard to face what you're going through, and it's hard to dive right on in and tackle it head on, but when you do that, you slowly start coming up to the surface. Slowly but surely you begin to understand that you're not in this alone, and that there are solutions and fixes to what you're going through. Slowly but surely, you begin to heal.
So please, don't be afraid to open up to someone. Whether it's a friend, family member, or someone that you feel wouldn't pass any judgement; Just please, do it.
I'll end on this quote:
"You don't have to control your thoughts. You just have to stop letting them control you." - Dan Millman.
I
think we all have blocks between us and the best version of ourselves,
whether it's shyness, insecurity, anxiety, whether it's a physical
block, and the story of a person overcoming that block to their best
self. It's truly inspiring because I think all of us are engaged in that
every day.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/anxiety.html#TKv285J
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/anxiety.html#TKv285J
I
think we all have blocks between us and the best version of ourselves,
whether it's shyness, insecurity, anxiety, whether it's a physical
block, and the story of a person overcoming that block to their best
self. It's truly inspiring because I think all of us are engaged in that
every day.
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/anxiety.html#TKv285J
Read more at http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/keywords/anxiety.html#TKv285J
Thursday, March 28, 2013
Sometimes We Need To Listen
Earlier on I got into a bit of heated chat with my mom about things such as people in our lives, and where I'd go to school. With everything she said I quickly turned it down with a smug, smartass remark. This continued for about 2 hours, until something inside of me finally told me to shut up.
Every smartass comment I made was something to bring her down. It was me telling her "I know what's better for myself and for you than even you do." Just like in many spirited debates, you exchange blows; trying to knock the other person down, make them vulnerable, and then win the debate with one final punch.
But as we reached the 2 hour mark, something inside of me finally made me listen. Instead of having this stone heart and these closed ears that I had been using for much of the conversation, I finally opened up to listen. And as I listened I learned something very valuable. We all know we're very quick to criticize others on their way of life, and as they defend their decisions, just as quickly, we turn down their defense. We continue going at them for their reasoning for things, and we keep telling them why they'd be better off living another way, or approaching something from a different angle.
But when you stop to listen, and I mean TRULY listen, you begin to get an appreciation for what someone is saying. And as she went on saying what she felt needed to be said, I realized that life would be much easier if we just stopped to listen every once in a while.
See, we tend to get the notion that we know what's best for people. For some reason we believe we know the magical answer to everyone's problems, and if their logic doesn't match ours, then frankly, it just isn't logic.
I feel I'm struggling to get my point across, so let me describe it in the best detail possible: As I sat there silently listening to her talk, about her opinions and her feelings, why she has done certain things the way she has done, I realized I was wrong for questioning her. Everything she said made perfect sense, she had the perfect reasoning for doing certain things, whether it was why she's going back to this church we've tried to attend multiple times, or the way she's going to go about life now that she's healthy. She believed strongly in what she was doing, so strongly in fact, that listening to her really humbled me. Maybe it's hard to get across from reading. Maybe it's just one of those interpersonal moments where you're just hit with that "Wow" factor, but it really just shut me up and made me think to a degree in which I haven't done lately.
She also mentioned about being thankful for the little things, and I know I haven't been as thankful as I should for so many amazing things in my life, here are some of them
So, moral of the story is, sometimes we really just need to listen. We need to stop assuming we know what's best for people, and let them live their lives based on what they feel is best for them. Just as I want people to back off me for my decision making, I need to back off others. Just as I want people to trust that I'll go in the right direction, I need to trust others.
Every smartass comment I made was something to bring her down. It was me telling her "I know what's better for myself and for you than even you do." Just like in many spirited debates, you exchange blows; trying to knock the other person down, make them vulnerable, and then win the debate with one final punch.
But as we reached the 2 hour mark, something inside of me finally made me listen. Instead of having this stone heart and these closed ears that I had been using for much of the conversation, I finally opened up to listen. And as I listened I learned something very valuable. We all know we're very quick to criticize others on their way of life, and as they defend their decisions, just as quickly, we turn down their defense. We continue going at them for their reasoning for things, and we keep telling them why they'd be better off living another way, or approaching something from a different angle.
But when you stop to listen, and I mean TRULY listen, you begin to get an appreciation for what someone is saying. And as she went on saying what she felt needed to be said, I realized that life would be much easier if we just stopped to listen every once in a while.
See, we tend to get the notion that we know what's best for people. For some reason we believe we know the magical answer to everyone's problems, and if their logic doesn't match ours, then frankly, it just isn't logic.
I feel I'm struggling to get my point across, so let me describe it in the best detail possible: As I sat there silently listening to her talk, about her opinions and her feelings, why she has done certain things the way she has done, I realized I was wrong for questioning her. Everything she said made perfect sense, she had the perfect reasoning for doing certain things, whether it was why she's going back to this church we've tried to attend multiple times, or the way she's going to go about life now that she's healthy. She believed strongly in what she was doing, so strongly in fact, that listening to her really humbled me. Maybe it's hard to get across from reading. Maybe it's just one of those interpersonal moments where you're just hit with that "Wow" factor, but it really just shut me up and made me think to a degree in which I haven't done lately.
She also mentioned about being thankful for the little things, and I know I haven't been as thankful as I should for so many amazing things in my life, here are some of them
- I'm not thankful enough for having a mom who always has my back, even in my darkest times.
- I'm not thankful enough for my grandparents, to both of whom I am like a child to them, and they're like parents to me.
- I'm not thankful enough for getting accepted into colleges, despite only having my grade 10 education at this time last year.
- I'm not thankful enough for my sisters. Who I know will grow into amazing, beautiful people.
- I'm not thankful enough for my friends. While it's a tight circle, it's an amazing one.
- I'm not thankful enough for my job. Where I get to interact with others, and golf for free.
- I'm not thankful enough for the roof over my shoulders, and food on my plate.
- I'm not thankful enough for where I am, and even for where I've been.
So, moral of the story is, sometimes we really just need to listen. We need to stop assuming we know what's best for people, and let them live their lives based on what they feel is best for them. Just as I want people to back off me for my decision making, I need to back off others. Just as I want people to trust that I'll go in the right direction, I need to trust others.
Thursday, December 20, 2012
We Need Ourselves
As I sit here and type this, I can't help but to be overcome by negative thoughts, I can't help but to view myself in the same way a critic might view a movie that was supposed to be about something, but ultimately failed to get it's point across. I often, mostly at night, sit and think about everything I've been through in the past 24 hours and beyond. I think about the good, but mostly about the bad. I wonder if I could have done something better, or if I shouldn't have done something at all. I think about my interactions, "Was I too mean to this person?", "Maybe I shouldn't have let so & so talk to me like that". I wonder what the point of me writing this is, I ask myself with every period, every new paragraph "Am I doing alright?". I question if I'm any good at blogging at all, I question if Journalism is really right for me....I question everything.
And that's a big part of being human. We all criticize ourselves, and we do it way too often. Everyday we live around people constantly criticizing each other, casting judgement upon one another when we really don't know anything about that person. Then we get home, away from that 3rd person judgement, and that's when we begin to look at ourselves in the mirror.
Self criticism isn't always a bad thing. It's actually an essential part of looking at who you are and coming to terms with the fact that you need to be better in whatever aspect of life it is you're looking at. But, it can also be toxic. It's amazing how we can just sit around for hours, spewing hatred towards ourselves when others have been doing it all day..where do we get off?
It's amazing because nobody knows you, nobody has been around you as long as you have. We are in our minds at all times. We never get a break from them. Even during sleep, we dream. We seem to let ourselves become slaves to our minds, as opposed to being the ones in control of them.
So why do we always go to others when we have problems? Why do we take solace in the views and opinions of others. Why, when we are the ones whom we are stuck with for the rest of our lives, do we always put ourselves last?
We have this crazy idea that we need acceptance from others. We have this blind hatred of ourselves, and that's why we feel the need to dive into social situations, it's why we feel that we have to be around others...because we fear ourselves.
When in reality, we really don't NEED anyone. We don't need the acceptance of others. When something goes wrong we don't need to run to the aid of anyone who has open arms. What we need is to first accept ourselves. We need to trust ourselves, and love ourselves before we can/should ever trust or love others. We don't seem to be comfortable enough in our own skin. It's amazing because we have such great power to do so good for ourselves. We can be our own best friends, yet, we choose to be our own worst enemies.
I'm not saying all of this in some dark "screw everyone else" sort of way, so please don't take it like that. What I'm trying to say is we need to realize that we are who we are. The body and the mind you are in, is the one you will always be in, so come to accept that. You can't truly love others if you hate yourself. That hatred towards yourself will find a way to manifest into all of your other relationships, and in the end you'll have a lot of enemies. We already have enemies, we already have demons, we don't need anyone else, especially ourselves, to be pushing us lower and lower.
As someone who went a long time while I was out of school feeling extremely lonely, I am a big believer in the fact that other people in your life are extremely important. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for so many people, I wouldn't be the person I am today if it wasn't for so many people. Heck, people MAKE other people (but we're keeping this rated -G). So of course we need others, but we greatly underestimate just how much we need ourselves.
During that time when I felt that extremely loneliness, I would obviously from time to time have social opportunities, I was pretty shy at the time, but it was surely better than being by myself. The problem with that logic though is eventually you will be by yourself, and what happens when that time comes and you can't stand the thought of being in your brain for another minute?
Life is funny though. I've stated this before, but life is extremely complex, yet extremely simple at the same time. Often times it's extremely simple, we just make it hard for ourselves. Life seems to be this raging sea of craziness, and sometimes (like I stated in the opening paragraph), life can feel like a movie which has gone all wrong. You had intentions of doing or being something, but you never ended up succeeding. But that movie which failed to get it's point across, somehow ended up getting some other point across; a point in which actually did more good than the original one would have.
So as crazy and confusing as life can be, there's one thing that I think we all need to understand: We need ourselves. We can't accomplish much in this life if we don't have the faith in ourselves to do so, because there are a lot of people that never will. When you live life based on how other people perceive you, you end up in a lot of trouble. There's just no point in it. You can't make everyone happy, but in the end, you can do your best to make yourself happy, and that will lead you to a lot more good than it will bad.
And that's a big part of being human. We all criticize ourselves, and we do it way too often. Everyday we live around people constantly criticizing each other, casting judgement upon one another when we really don't know anything about that person. Then we get home, away from that 3rd person judgement, and that's when we begin to look at ourselves in the mirror.
Self criticism isn't always a bad thing. It's actually an essential part of looking at who you are and coming to terms with the fact that you need to be better in whatever aspect of life it is you're looking at. But, it can also be toxic. It's amazing how we can just sit around for hours, spewing hatred towards ourselves when others have been doing it all day..where do we get off?
It's amazing because nobody knows you, nobody has been around you as long as you have. We are in our minds at all times. We never get a break from them. Even during sleep, we dream. We seem to let ourselves become slaves to our minds, as opposed to being the ones in control of them.
So why do we always go to others when we have problems? Why do we take solace in the views and opinions of others. Why, when we are the ones whom we are stuck with for the rest of our lives, do we always put ourselves last?
We have this crazy idea that we need acceptance from others. We have this blind hatred of ourselves, and that's why we feel the need to dive into social situations, it's why we feel that we have to be around others...because we fear ourselves.
When in reality, we really don't NEED anyone. We don't need the acceptance of others. When something goes wrong we don't need to run to the aid of anyone who has open arms. What we need is to first accept ourselves. We need to trust ourselves, and love ourselves before we can/should ever trust or love others. We don't seem to be comfortable enough in our own skin. It's amazing because we have such great power to do so good for ourselves. We can be our own best friends, yet, we choose to be our own worst enemies.
I'm not saying all of this in some dark "screw everyone else" sort of way, so please don't take it like that. What I'm trying to say is we need to realize that we are who we are. The body and the mind you are in, is the one you will always be in, so come to accept that. You can't truly love others if you hate yourself. That hatred towards yourself will find a way to manifest into all of your other relationships, and in the end you'll have a lot of enemies. We already have enemies, we already have demons, we don't need anyone else, especially ourselves, to be pushing us lower and lower.
As someone who went a long time while I was out of school feeling extremely lonely, I am a big believer in the fact that other people in your life are extremely important. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for so many people, I wouldn't be the person I am today if it wasn't for so many people. Heck, people MAKE other people (but we're keeping this rated -G). So of course we need others, but we greatly underestimate just how much we need ourselves.
During that time when I felt that extremely loneliness, I would obviously from time to time have social opportunities, I was pretty shy at the time, but it was surely better than being by myself. The problem with that logic though is eventually you will be by yourself, and what happens when that time comes and you can't stand the thought of being in your brain for another minute?
Life is funny though. I've stated this before, but life is extremely complex, yet extremely simple at the same time. Often times it's extremely simple, we just make it hard for ourselves. Life seems to be this raging sea of craziness, and sometimes (like I stated in the opening paragraph), life can feel like a movie which has gone all wrong. You had intentions of doing or being something, but you never ended up succeeding. But that movie which failed to get it's point across, somehow ended up getting some other point across; a point in which actually did more good than the original one would have.
So as crazy and confusing as life can be, there's one thing that I think we all need to understand: We need ourselves. We can't accomplish much in this life if we don't have the faith in ourselves to do so, because there are a lot of people that never will. When you live life based on how other people perceive you, you end up in a lot of trouble. There's just no point in it. You can't make everyone happy, but in the end, you can do your best to make yourself happy, and that will lead you to a lot more good than it will bad.
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
My Journey Into The World Of Online Dating
It's still looked at with a raised eyebrow. It's still talked about like it's a fantasy world for people who can't talk to the opposite sex in person; it's also one of the fastest growing ways of meeting people.
According to Match.com, 1 in 5 relationships now start online. When you look at that as a percentage, it's not a lot, it's less than 25%, but when you look at the growth of the internet, and how it being used regularly is still fairly young, 20% isn't that small of a number. Remember, online doesn't just mean dating websites, it could also mean Myspace (haha), Facebook, Twitter, or any other social networking/sharing site you can think of.
Anyways, online dating continues to be looked at as this strange thing, yet something that I think subconsciously, many of us have an interest in. That interest + curiosity lea me to create a profile on OKCupid.
At first I thought I'd just set one up just to check the site out. I used a side email I use for things like Twitter and what not, just in case I wanted to use my real one if I ended up liking what I was seeing, and I sort of did.
The first day was more getting to know the site, and sending out mass messages to about 35 females (wheels, right?). I wasn't really sure what to expect in terms of messaging back, but it became quickly apparent very few do, as it said on their profile "Replies selectively". But I weathered the initial storm of frustration and kept going, I tried opening messages like "You should strongly consider introducing me to your cats" or "If you're cool with being my 3rd favorite female behind my Mom and my dog, we should chat". I even did quite a bit of research on things people would say in their opening message. Some were funny, some were plain stupid, and some were just people being themselves. But what I slowly began to figure out was that on a dating site, females must receive multiple messages per day. It's sort of like lining them up, and lining the males up across from them, and letting the males do their research and choose accordingly. This therefore gives the females an interesting sense of entitlement, and puts you in a position where you need to stand out.
So about a day into it I finally started getting somewhere. Being the persistent (annoying) person that I am, if I noticed a female looked at my profile but decided to not respond, I would message them a second time and THAT actually got the ball rolling. The problem is the messaging is very strange, as is the step up of knowing when someone is online. With some, it shows they are always online, leading you to believe they ignored you, when really, they haven't even read your message.
So, what's the best part of the messaging system you say? There is NO pressure and NO emotions. If you lose a messaging buddy, oh well, on to the next one. It's a good way of avoiding emotions getting in the way, and once you feel comfortable enough, you can consider meeting them.
Overall:
Overall I'd have to say I quite like it so far. It provides a means in which you can connect with people and maybe something will develop, but you also have no obligation to use it whatsoever. Simply put - you can't lose. If you don't find someone then you're just in the same position you were before, and if you find someone great! It worked.
Even if you only go on a few dates and nothing comes of it it's still worthwhile. There is never any harm done is getting to meet and chat with new people. Socially, it gets you out and interacting with people, which can end up helping your self esteem and also make you learn things about yourself, through those interactions.
The main reason I'm writing this blog though is to get rid of those beliefs that online dating is scummy and strange. It's 2012, and the internet has become a vital means for keeping up to date with news, sharing and learning, and that will only continue to grow.
Are there some weirdos out there? Sure. Are some people on there only looking for one night stands? Absolutely. But there's a lot more to it than the strangely large number of Bisexual women, and the obese girls that describe themselves as either "Curvy" or "having a little extra".
One thing I do believe though is that for someone of my age, online dating probably isn't going to work out. I think anywhere between 18-23, people aren't necessarily on there looking for lifelong partners, and if they were, they probably wouldn't be so selective with who they respond to, and would actually take the time to get to know someone.
In the end, I think online dating is a viable means of meeting someone. I've heard stories of success, and I've heard stories of failure, both of which happen online and in the outside world. Online dating isn't for everyone, but for the lucky few who have met their lover on there, I'm sure they're glad they signed up.
P.S - I will continue to update this as I go along and things progress. Meeting someone is obviously the biggest part of online dating, and that's when things get interesting.
Chris
Sunday, September 23, 2012
Moving On
"If I had a formula for bypassing trouble, I would not pass it round. Trouble creates a capacity to handle it. I don't embrace trouble; that's as bad as treating it as an enemy. But I do say meet it as a friend, for you'll see a lot of it and had better be on speaking terms with it". ~Oliver Wendell Holmes
They say adversity makes us stronger. Pain and suffering, while at the time can seem unbearable, in the end is supposed to prepare us for the things ahead.
Since my time while being out of school, I've been no stranger to adversity. I've been no stranger to pain, anxiety, and just having no clue where life was taking me. The only thing I was a stranger to, was myself.
Many times during some of my darker periods I had no idea who I even was. This anxiety riddled person just wasn't me, and I was determined that it wouldn't be me. I was determined that some how, some way, I was going to make a big name for myself, and ideally, I thought that was going to be through tennis.
See, as shy as I have been (though I personally feel I've grown out of it, especially recently) I always quietly liked having some sort of attention on me, especially with sports. Whether in gym class just being the best at something, or when the annual speech competition came up at school, I liked doing well, I craved being successful. Hell, we all do, we all want to be good at what we do, but many are satisfied with only having one thing, only having one area of expertise to perfect and define themselves.
One of things that drove me the craziest while out of school was I felt I had none of that. I really felt I had no purpose, which for me was difficult because I'm a purpose driven person. I don't do things to be in the top 10, the 3rd best, 2nd best, anything like that..I do things to be the best, and if I'm not the best, I'm not satisfied.
See I CRAVE competition, psychotically sometimes; and that's where the tennis came in.
I knew before my 1st pro tournament I was a decent player, but I really had no idea the level at which professional tennis is truly played at...that's why I got my ass kicked.
So I went on, I trained during the winter with the goal in mind of playing in all 4 tournaments that come to the GTA in August/September. I worked my butt off and felt I had gotten myself to a new level. I changed racquets, developed a much better forehand which could actually handle heavy baseline rallies, but most importantly I perfected my serve. My serve had always been very hard, but it would go in maybe 20% of the time on my 1st serve at the most, and my 2nd serve had nothing on it. So I completely redefined my serves, and completely redefined myself, by losing over 35lbs.
So the summer roles around again and it's almost time for the first tournament of the 4, but about 2 weeks before it, I get involved in a serious car accident and sustained very bad whiplash, and muscles injuries in my back.
Because of the accident and doing physio + massage 3 times a week to rehab it, I couldn't do the first 2 tournaments. So now the third tournament came, and it was the one at the Tennis Canada grounds, Rexall Centre. I decided that I wouldn't go to work that day (even though I had only worked there for 2 weeks) and I'd do the tournament. I got a BYE the 1st round, and ended up facing a young Canadian like myself, though he had experience playing at the Junior level and had a National ranking. The match finally started and the 1st set, minus solid serving of my part was shaky. The second set I played much better and was in every single game, I just couldn't overcome. Ultimately, he was at a higher level than I was, and that's where the personal battle of what to do next has begun.
See, I had taken my game over the course of a year to a new level, one where I could compete against these guys to a degree, but just not enough to get over the line. So I've constantly be wondering "now what?", do I stick with it and search for someone that can take me to the next level again, and give it a go again next summer? Or should I just face it, and work for a year then go to school for Journalism, which I also have a passion for.
Right now, I've chosen the latter. To work, meet new people, and just go from there. But honestly I don't think there is a right or wrong option. The thing that bugged me the most is that during the whole winter while doing the tennis training people kept telling me "you've got to face reality", but what is reality? Who is to say what reality is for each individual person? One person's reality could be that the world is a dark place without hope; while another person's reality could be that it's a world of opportunity, and that's mine.
I don't want to define myself to one way to go, one path and if that path doesn't work then what? I've done that..I've put all of my eggs in one basket, and what happens when you drop that one basket and they all break? Then you're left with nothing.
I had a good talk with someone one day, and it's funny how they said almost exactly what I was thinking - if you want something in life you need to go out and get it. If you want to be a pro tennis player DO IT. If you want to be fit BE IT. If you're interested in a person go over there and get to know them. If you want something, simply get it, go for what you want despite what others opinions may be.
I've learned there is nothing selfish about doing you. Obviously, you should try and help others, don't live JUST for yourself, but remember yourself from time to time. There are always going to be people who say that you are being selfish by making yourself happy, but really, THEY are the ones being selfish because by you doing things for yourself. It probably means you are no longer doing things for them, which they are too lazy to do for themselves. I didn't go to work, I missed my 2nd shift to play in a tennis tournament, that could have gotten me fired, and I knew that..but I wanted the tennis, it was a once in a lifetime opportunity, and sometimes those are the decisions which you have to make.
So as I work now, working towards my own vehicle and going to school, I realize that as much of a stranger as I became to myself, I believe I might know myself better than ever now. I think sometimes we focus so much on our weakness', that we don't even know our strengths, but I do now. I know what I know, and I know what I don't know. I know the kind of people I want in my life, and the kinds I don't. I know what I want to take away with me from my journey. When I'm older, I want to tell grand kids stories about things I did, and chances I took. I don't want to be another face in the crowd, working 8 hours a day doing something I hate.
Most importantly, I've learned that I can still be someone, without being a professional tennis player. There is much more to life than that. As good as hitting an ace or a forehand winner feels, having someone tell you what you write is beautiful, or feeling a connection with another person, can feel so much better.
Here's a line from a blog I read recently which I will leave you with, I find it incredibly true.
"Athlete success and failure is a perfect model for life. Rarely, if ever, will you reach the top. And once you get there, the peak is small and short lived. Failure is far more common, but we should still embrace challenge. Ironically, the beauty of life is enhanced through struggle, and the peace found after failure."
Thanks for reading,
-Chris
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