Have felt quite decent the last several days. I have been getting adequate sleep and leaving my apartment for longer periods of time. I’m keeping my apartment less cluttered lately. It doesn’t take my cleaning person as long to do her job these days. Maybe after several months of adjustments and regular maintenance I’m getting on top of hanging issues. I haven’t had much for flare ups or anxiety for over a week now. First time in months I can claim that.
I think I don’t feel much for anxiety or depression anymore is for a handful of reasons. For one, if I don’t feel like socializing I don’t do it. I don’t socialize unless I want to. Granted it means sometimes going entire days without talking to anyone. Which is alright with me. Some of my happiest times came when I was alone and allowed to read, write, and research answers to my questions without input from anyone else. And I no longer feel guilty for not wanting to socialize. Sometimes I will let the phone ring if I’m not in the mood to talk. Sometimes I’m just not in the mood to interrupt my tasks to listen to a sales pitch, or take a phone survey, or listen to my friends complain about how much their jobs suck, or about something my retired parents heard from one of their neighbors or saw on tv.
Sometimes I just don’t want to be interrupted. And most of the time mundane crap like talking about the weather, politics, the latest episode of Game of Thrones or The Kardashians, how work is going, or how my favorite sports teams are on a losing streak doesn’t interest me much. Yet most people I know want to talk about these things. Want to talk about it, okay: The weather is cloudy and humid. Politicians can’t solve technical and social problems and aren’t the gods mass media and party members make them to be and never were. Game of Thrones really laid an egg on their farewell season and angered millions of fans all over the world, including many of my closest friends. The Kardashians are famous just for being rich, pretty, and famous. Come back when they invent nuclear fusion or safe artificial super intelligence. Most people hate their jobs and work them only for the money (which isn’t that good in most cases anyway). My Huskers have had three losing seasons in the last four years but hopefully the young hotshot we have as a coach can get us winning again and the Rockies are barely breaking even and probably won’t win the pennant. I discussed all of that in less than a minute. No need to rehash it. Let’s move on.
Of course this doesn’t make me popular with my neighbors or family. Then I’ve never been popular. Popular is lowest common denominator. Popular is mundane. Popular doesn’t change the world for the better. Popular doesn’t catch the attention. Popular isn’t thought provoking. Popular is boring. Popular sucks because it stands for nothing, has no feeling, has no courage, has no magic, and inspires no one to their highest nature and capacities. I don’t care about popular. I care about making people think. And if it makes my friends, family, readers, critics, etc. angry and uncomfortable, so be it. I’d rather be persecuted for being beneficial to people than honored for catering to the base nature of our humanity.
I readily admit to being eccentric. I was such even as a child. In my more active years, I used to pace in the back yard for hours on end regardless of the weather just making up stories in my head. I’m sure this concerned my family some (and made me a butt of jokes among the school yard bullies), but I had an overactive imagination as a child. I was too scared to actually put any of this into writing. I guess I was paranoid even as a child. I used to make up all sorts of stories and characters. I kind of kick myself now for not making notes on some of those stories as I think some of them might have made decent science fiction or fantasy stories. But I never considered a career as a writer because I had heard so many horror stories about English and humanities students condemned to working minimum wage jobs after college. As it is now, the middle class is all but gone. I may have been happier as a double major in English and History rather than trying to be a medical scientist.
I guess now that I know myself much better at age 38 than I did at age 18, I know now that I am really a writer/story teller who is interested in science, rather than a scientist interested in writing. And I certainly am not the economist or sales man I studied to be when I studied business after it became clear my mental illness wouldn’t allow to go to medical school.
Since I’m starting to read much more again, I’m beginning to get the urge to try my hand at traditional writing again. I absolutely love blogging and I used poetry in my twenties to learn how to write and tell stories. But perhaps it is time to venture into new possibilities with my writings. I’ve had some of my poems published in small literary journals in the past. I did write the rough drafts of two novels when I was in my twenties. I made outlines for science fiction novels but never wrote anything serious. Once I even tried my hand at writing crime drama, and my only experience with crime was when I helped my boss catch a couple shoplifters during my first day on the job when I was in college. I wish I had kept my rough drafts of my old novels.
I became interested in writing as a means of story telling during my freshman year in college when I qualified for a place in an advanced English course. I find out I loved writing stories and essays in that class. I made some pretty good friends in that class too. One of those friends became a blogger too. I regret that I lost contact with her and everyone else in that class over the years. Even though I didn’t dive head first into writing after that class ended, I did become interested in literature. I must have spent as much time reading in the college library as I did studying for my business and economics classes during the last three years of college. I became so dedicated to pursuing this course of self study that I let much of my old college life go. I left my fraternity even though I had lots of friends in that group. I stopped dating to pursue knowledge. I guess I knew even early on that learning and story telling were the true loves of my life. Besides, fighting a mental illness I would have probably made a lousy husband and father.
I more or less lived in the library the last three years of college. But one of the purposes of formal education should be to at least give kids the tools to learn new things should they wish to once they leave school. I felt my formal education, first at a rural public school and then at a private college in York, Nebraska, did just that for me. And I am grateful every day that I wake up for being able to make it through college without any student debt. With as expensive as college is getting now, and how wages simply aren’t keeping up, I whole heartedly recommend against going to a four year college unless you are going for a STEM degree or can be guaranteed to get out debt free. I’ve seen too many friends crushed by student loan debts, robbed of their peace of mind, and working jobs they can’t stand just because of said debts. And much of what I learned in college can just as easily be learned with a few years of hard self study via the public library system, ebooks, and youtube videos. I dare say that I learned more in five years of hard self studying via the public library and youtube videos than I did in my formal education. But it was the formal education that planted that desire and need for knowledge and wisdom to begin with. These are some of my thoughts on my education and path to enlightenment as the school year starts again.