Saturday, October 31, 2015

Loved one in pain and charades...

It is Halloween!  A Saturday this year, and it appears everyone is celebrating. 

Yesterday, I was asked if I had big plans or planned to get away for a little trip.  As it turns out, I had been planning on leaving next weekend.  After a brief minute of chatting, the man wished me a nice trip.  “But then again,” he said, “Why wouldn’t you?  Your life is golden!”

I’ll admit the act I put on was nice to be seen as living a golden life, but the words knocked the wind out of me.  He wasn’t being rude, sarcastic or insulting.  I believe he was genuine.  And that’s the part that really took my breath away because here’s the truth.

This man had seen me several times over the past year for minutes at a time. Usually, I am all dressed up doing a full-time job. He usually enjoys the photography I have exhibited on the office wall. He has a high respect for my knowledge and confidence in my profession. Therefore, this is what he knew.

The truth is there is darkness I rarely show, nor do most see.  Especially now, when so many of our connections happen only five minutes at a time…fully filtered or perfectly hashtagged.  In our defense, though, it’s not entirely our fault.  That battle we’re fighting…those rough days were having…they don’t tend to translate very well when you have twenty people waiting to meet you on a busy day.


What would I have told this person so the golden image was not assumed?  I could have said, “Yes, I am flying to Colorado.  My son is going through a very tough time, and he is in the greatest of pain emotionally.  I could tell him of my heart condition, which was discovered last spring, and how I have so much trouble breathing most of the time.   A terrifying health scare.  I could remind him of the on-and-off suffering from post-traumatic stress disorder.  So, going to Colorado to visit nature sounds good, but it seemed like an excellent place to run away from life.

No.  I will not tell him this.  Because shocking total strangers into oblivion is harsh and cruel.  Especially when he relies on my confidence and leadership skills.   

But I did spend today wondering about my sense of authenticity…my collective vulnerability…, and my polished identity. And it made me feel like a total fraud because I’m not any of those things that this man sees on the other side of the desk.

If I showed up one morning wearing my most ragged and scarred self…it would be a very different man staring back at me.  That will not happen as I spend an absurd amount of time worrying about what others think of me.  In addition, my biggest challenge in life is letting go of people.  Even if they hurt me.

I feel like I have failed as a son.  I try to avoid big groups so I won’t feel like the invisible one.  I’m insanely self-conscious of my smile.  I feel like I’m easy to walk away from in life…and it haunts me daily.

I almost always assume that I care more about everyone else than they do about me.  I always feel like a terrible father and hate emptying the dishwasher.

Every day, I’m afraid my girlfriend will wake up and finally realize how crazy she is dating.  I thank God for every day that she doesn’t!

I want to miswrite a book that it hurts.  But I’m afraid of people telling me my life was never worth telling.  I struggle, every single day, with feeling like I’m enough.  Funny enough.  Good enough.



And I cry.  A lot more recently as I see the pain my loved ones encounter.  Always in private causes the pain I see, and there is nothing I can do about it!

I doubt I would get a gold star for any of this.  Scars tell stories of survival as I stood up for the fight instead of running away.  And we’ve all got them…even the man on the other side of my desk.  He fights battles, defends his front line, and struggles in his own way.

And maybe it’s not about collecting gold stars for the perceived reality we give the world on Facebook…but about the purple hearts we get for living bravely among the real ones. Because life requires guts, bravery…and vulnerability.

So, I get up, go to work, manage the high-level stress in my life, wear my scars proudly…and carry on.  I wish I could get my son to understand that he is not in this battle alone.  However, I feel I have been struggling for over a decade and am tired.  I keep disappointing people and trying to be a better person by improving on the charade.  The image below says so much!


Saturday, October 17, 2015

Respect?

Every human is different.   We have different religions (or no religion), we are loyal (or not), we are caring (or brutally mean), etc.   We all have things that bug another human, like another person's foul body aroma.   Of course, we never notice our foul aroma, but we see others.

One of my pet peeves has always been time.  I am very concerned not to waste another's time.  I respect their time and anticipate the same respect in return.  I always show up for a Doctor's appointment 10 minutes early, and they usually make me wait until 10 minutes after my appointment.  I asked about this once, and they said the previous appointment was late.  So I had to stay because of the actions of the others, and they really see no issue with their behavior.

However, either you are like me or are always late and never seem to care about anyone else being inconvenienced by your tardiness.  Regular tardiness reduces the trust I have in that person.   How can I trust that they will not be late in dire need?   If they say, "I will be there at 10" and arrive at 10:40, to me, that carries on to other things in life.

For example, if they say, "I really care for you," does that mean I care, but if something else comes along, I will not care for you as much (be late)?   This is a significant blow to the trust one has in that relationship.  I try hard to accept the unique nature of the routinely tardy individuals, but I still feel betrayed and disrespected.  I am unsure how to overcome that feeling, but I will continue working on it.  Otherwise, I will carry so much anger internally, which will only cause more problems.

Some say chronically late people are not hopeless but hopeful. I see this, as well.  Those who do not respect the time of others are generally more optimistic, while people like me are less optimistic.

Carry on, my friends, carry on...