Random, Aimless and Unplanned – Just Letting It Roll

Before I go forward in any direction, I have to say that I come here with no intention. I am not thinking when I write. I just write.
I move. I let the words go and I pay attention to the keys as I type. I let the sound of my fingers poking the letters make a rhythm for me to keep moving.

I do not think about who reads or who doesn’t. I’m not thinking of anyone, per se, except for you and me and how the universe has allowed me this little space in my head, just to let myself go.

I come here to spill, which is not to say that emotional dumping is always the best thing to do. And yes, I do that sometimes.
More often, i allow myself to find subconscious flow and then, I let it roll.

Some might say this is cathartic. Some call this therapeutic.
And me?
I just call this life.
I call this my space to let myself go free.
I say this is where I come to let it roll and without this place, or you, or the idea of you, then I would have nothing else to defend myself from the craziness of thought-provoked exile or the self-induced chaos which is otherwise known as daily life.
I have this.
I have my space and I have you, at least to some degree.
I envision you and I are sitting together as I type. I see us by a fire.
It is dark and you are listening to me by the firelight.
This is my best way to reach you.
Nothing can hurt me (or us) here.
There is no judgment and there are no social influences, which can cause people to hush themselves about their truth because of stigmas or the stigma-based ideas that it is vulnerable to be human.

But as for the question at hand, am I human?
My answer is abundantly so.
I’m human alright. . .
Flawed and all.
However . . .

I don’t know how or why things work out the way they do. Then again, I’m not even certain if things work or not. Life happens. Pages turn and chapters close and then we open to the next one. We may not approve of this. We might not be happy with what the chapter is or was. And we might wish we could turn back or start over, which is up to the stars, for the most part. I don’t know why we say things we don’t mean or mean things we don’t say.

I understand that sometimes the mind takes hold of bad ideas. I know that we can be swept away by anger or a thought and feelings and, of course, I know that it is possible for us to think our way into a problem. “We can think ourselves sick,” very easily.
I mean that, yes, we can talk ourselves deep into a load of our own shit if we choose to.
I know because I’ve done this before.
Several times.

If you want to hear about honesty, there are countless times in my life when there was a voice inside of my head, begging me to stop, and pleading for me to quit what I was doing (or saying) and shouting from my core and hollering at me to stop fighting. At the same time, the emotional mind already spun out of control and jumped off the ledge. I was in too deep.
Now what?

I admit it.
I am too sensitive. I admit that this is hard to say, especially as a man, and as a man, I know I’m supposed to be strong.
I know that my opinions of manhood or masculinity are (and have been) misled by years of thinking errors and misunderstood and misperceived information. I know there is viral information, which is far from the truth yet, like any software virus, this has damaged my hard drive when downloaded in my brain.

I know that I think too much. I know that when I think too much, my fork runs away with the spoon and I am a thousand miles ahead of where I need to be, which is here, and in the now.
But no.
My thinking has brought me somewhere else.

I think too much. I worry too often.
I overthink and consider every possible bad scenario, as if to think carefully because in all fairness, my best aim is to keep myself safe. But, of course, my overthinking causes my alarm system to overreact.
My mind picks up on the false alarms and the smoke signals and next, my fork runs away with the spoon, and then my irrational mind takes over. To be honest, what a bitch that is!
I think about the wars that haven’t happened yet. I prepare for the letdowns that come from my sad imagination.
I assume the worst and in preparation for an assumed pain or letdown and heartbreak, I act in response to the tragedy, which has been built up in my head. All the while, I never notice how I feed into the self-fulfilled prophecies in my head.

So, let us begin with a few different ideas that take shape in our minds and cause us to forecast the worst.
Or at least let me go there with me. . .

As usual, I can only begin with me, but please note and be mindful that I am not allowing anything to act as an excuse for who I am, what I’ve done, nor is this an excuse for my wrongs or unfortunate things that I have said in this regard.
However, all of this comes from a central station, so-to-speak.
The mind!
All of this comes from a formulated assumption or worry about chaos, hurt, pain, and humiliation.
And yes, I have been humiliated.
I know what it’s like to be laughed at. I know what it’s like to be snickered at and pointed towards and, of course, I know what this is like, according to my perception, which is often inaccurate because as I was told, perception is not truth; it’s only truth to me.

I know what it’s like to believe that I am foolish, or that I was vulnerable and made to look like some gullible idiot.
Sure, I’ve been there.
I swore to never let this happen again.
I know what it’s like to give so much of myself to someone, and have this come back, unreturned and unwanted, or you know what? Unappreciated is a great term for this. I know how it is to swear, up and down, that no matter what happens, I will never put myself in that same situation again.
Until the next time, and there I go, right back in the saddle again.

I have pushed people away. I have self-destructed and sabotaged great relationship and all of this was due to an inaccurate assumption or some other series of thinking errors and insecurity which came from my biased thoughts and beliefs..

So—
To be clear, I have to start this from the beginning.
I have to start here, at my earlier memories whereas, I know where my inventory begins and I understand the emotional quicksand enough and the traps to recognize where I was caught in the greatest misperceptions of self.
As for my body and my body’s image, I swore that I was too thin. I was too short.
And to be clear, I was too short and too thin.
I swore that there was something wrong with the way I looked. I swore there was something wrong with the way I spoke.
I never liked the way I looked or the sound of my voice.
I swore that there had to be something wrong with me. And, of course, there had to be something wrong with me, right?
Why else would I assume this if it weren’t so?

Normal people don’t think about themselves this way.
Do they?
Then again, I never knew what normal was.
Is normal really “a thing” or is something normal to me, just normal to me, and I am only a subjective weirdo who lost his grip somewhere?

I was bullied. Yes. This happened.
I was laughed at. Yes, this happened too, and more than once.
I was picked on. But how bad was this?
How bad were my humiliations and if they were bad, then I have to ask how real were they?
I say this in defense of myself because the mind can often draw inaccurate conclusions, and thus, we amplify the outcomes of some unfortunate event. Then we tend to make things bigger in our minds than how things really happened.

I have been tied to the five fingers of rejective thinking for most of my life.
Remember them?
The five fingers of rejective thinking are blame, shame, guilt, fault, and regret. All five of these are the fingers that close and make the fist that we use to beat ourselves up with.
And sure, I beat myself up.
I do this all the time.
I overthink.
I recall old ideas like old messages left on an answering machine.
The worst part is I replay them in my head, which enables the mind to relive and feel what took place, over and over again, as in repeatedly. Hence, I ask, how can anyone heal if they keep reopening their wounds?

This type of thinking causes a chain reaction throughout our body and each time we relive a poor and unfortunate moment, our chemistry takes on the same characteristics as when the incident took place.
This means you can literally “feel” everything all over again.

I relive old talks in my head. I relitigate the past, or more accurately, I try to relitigate the past but to no avail because the past is the past and facts cannot change.
Yet, we still try to change what is beyond our control.
Don’t we?
I rehash old arguments and live them back in my head, word for word, and then what?
Next, I prepare myself with a new series of comebacks and things to say, just in case the battle ever reappears. But the battles are over. Until I start another one.

I have learned that if I live my life according to the math of my past, the sum is often the same, or at least close to the same.
Therefore, if I want to change my outcomes, I have to change my math.

And here’s another bit of honesty.
I don’t know how to let go of old pain. I don’t always know how to walk away from something that was hurtful, and sometimes, I don’t want to walk away because I don’t want to “lose” and so, I fight and try to bull my way through.
Here’s why . . .
I don’t like when things are unresolved or open-ended and, thus, I am left with an inward struggle—as if to say, “What’s wrong with me?”
Or “Why me?”
Or “Is it that hard for someone like me to be happy?”

I understand that the mind will always want to know “why?”
We always want to have an answer or some kind of accountability for an uncomfortable thought or feeling.
The answer to another important question is yes. It is nearly impossible to be happy when living in a broken mindset. It is very difficult to feel better when living with old messages in the brain that constantly warn, like some emotional computer virus that reroutes our thinking to “danger mode” and causes us to believe that only the worst is possible.
Anything good is an unlikely rarity, at best.

I can’t live this way.
I don’t want to.
I have though.
And what has this done, aside from push people away?

I’ve lived with an inaccurate mindset for as long as I can remember.
But where has this led me?
How many times have I failed myself or someone else, all because I lived my life according to the wrong blueprint or some self-deprecating idea that something is wrong with me, and no one will ever love me on a long-term basis. So, therefore, I might as well sink the ship and ruin everything before I am found out. I might as well blow it all away before I am hurt or discovered to be a fraud or just some inefficient, ugly human being who is truly undesirable—and let me do this at a catastrophic and historic level before unfortunately, it is known that the initial attraction was nothing more than an initial attraction.
Hence, eventually, my ugly truths will arise to cause the beauty around me to leave and be done with me.

And yes, this has been a challenge for me.
If I’m being transparent, this has been a challenge for me for as long as I can remember.

I recall believing that, at best, I am only ugly, or that I am stupid, or that I can cause a laugh or two, but in the end and before we go any further, I believed that I was somehow emotionally handicapped or intellectually disabled—which, by the way, yes, I honestly and truly believed this with all of my heart.
So, who the hell would really want me on their side?
Rather than disprove the internal dialogue, I fulfilled the self-prophecy and made everything worse.

I never thought much of myself. And no, this is not beating myself up and this is not putting me down in any way, shape, or form.
No, this is something called honesty.
It takes balls to be this honest.
This is called an honest assessment of truth and in no way is this an excuse nor does this excuse the innocent bystanders or the collateral damages that took place during my self-destructive phases.

I have run away from good people. I’ve hurt the best people in the world.
I admit this humbly and with regret.
I’ve said bad and terrible things and, of course, nearly every time, I wished I could stop myself.
In fact, there are times when I wished I could punch myself in the face and say, “STOP!”
“What the hell are you doing?”
“You’re about to ruin everything!”

And then . . .
The loneliness appears.
Then I realize why people move away or decided to separate from me, and rightfully so.
The self-fulfilled prophecy came true or, “it is . . accomplished,” are the more famous words which came from The Man on the Cross.
Up next, I realized that it is me who allowed my defects of character and my shortcomings to have their way.
It was me who took the steps to push me towards painting myself into a corner and making my self-fulfilled prophecy come true.
It was me . . .

Most people fail to be honest with their own downfalls. My problem is I either lied or tried to defend this, all too often. Yhen what happened?
Nothing good.
I can say that.

I can say that trauma and the bonds we have with our past or the unresolved items are a true link to where we turned inwards.
The tension, the resentment, and the unresolved emotions, thoughts, and feelings can cause us to self-destruct or implode. I know this all too well.
But who doesn’t?

I offer this as a link to my personal failures. I link this to the wrongs of my past and I link this to the reasons for aftermaths which hurt me, left me alone, or caused pain to others, and disrupted the lives of good people.

Again, I call this honesty.
This is my honest inventory and a design to appeal and amend the exact natures of my wrongs.
This is also a link to a map of my past which I hope to turn around.
I want to face forward and take a page from my past so that I can learn from my mistakes and forge a path towards a better future.

And, as for the word “over,”
I hate the word.
Maybe not always.
I know the past is over.
That’s not a bad thing.
I know the future is up and coming.
I know the present is here, but this too shall pass and the present will become the past, soon enough.
But I have to change before I can move ahead.
so, here I go.

Dear Universe,

Thank you for this lesson of humility.
Thank you for shooting me down to size and stopping me from creating a worse scenario.
But if I may, please allow me the chance to improve, just a little.
I want to believe.
I want to feel.
I want “the life” and I want “the dream” and yes, although I have seen hard times, like anyone else, I also want to find my way to resolve the unresolved past so that I can have the benefit of a new and improved future.

Should love allow the dance of my dreams, then please hear me:
I cannot promise you a rose garden.
I cannot promise the best of everything.
I cannot promise that I will never say or do something wrong.
I am who I am.
All I can promise you is this—this is me, faults and all, but with all that I have, I can promise to love you with all of my heart.

But before I do . . .
Let me learn to get out of my own way first.
I admit that this needs to happen before anything because after that, I swear, nothing in the world can stop me.

I want the life, the dream, and the long walks in places I’ve never been to before.
But more, I want to be happy.

Don’t you?