Hmmm
Blogging…
A diary..public journal?
Soap box?
A different thing for different people?
Mine is an outlet…
I don’t know really why its “published”. (why its online for anyone to see)
Mostly at the suggestion of my brother, whose writings I have always been jealous.
He is SOO much more articulate than I.
I do find it therapeutic to express myself on paper and process thru the thots rolling around in my head. When I go back and re-read some of my stuff… (after suffering thru my fat fingered typos and repetitive or missing word/thot content attributed to brain malfunction) it sounds different than it did in my head.
Lately, a lot of my posts have been negative and depressing. Yukky whiney stuff.
Why such suffering? What point or purpose for such constant pain? Seems all I write.
Yeah.. well I dunno.
What I do know.. is that I am learning patience in ways that I never imagined before.
I am forced to learn to handle things differently. The frustration that I felt before.. trying to effect control over things around me...expecting outcomes that suited me…and when results weren’t what I wanted…frustration morphed into agitation morphed into anger into rage at whatever…at the world. Some sense of injustice roared thru my veins in hulk-ian (?) fashion and everyone around me was made aware of my disdain.
I have had this poor reaction to my environment for years...decades likely.
It has driven a wedge between myself and my family always…I was just to damned ignorant to see it.. I was only recently made aware of its effects on those so close to me.
For me… from my perspective.. I was simply venting. When I was done, I was done. For those around me I was seen as bitter, angry - even mean at times. Surely surly and corrosive.
I do believe that some measure of my discontent was/is driven by my sense of helplessness. A belief that I have little control over my environment. At least less control than I desire. At the risk of expressing some “victim” posture I would have to say that for many years I was told that I did not. That I was unable to do many things. Many ideas and projects - hopes dreams.. were quashed. I was told relentlessly (you cant..) (”you don’t have enough lead in your pencil”).. I was not encouraged to try new things in ways that I should have been. I was rarely allowed to express my opinions about stuff. There was a very real sense of being restrained…that feeling carried from adolescence haunts me still.
I don’t think my ol’man ever met Yoda.
It seems it takes a terminal medical condition for me to learn the patience I should have been exercising all along.
To show my friends and family the respect they deserve.
I’ve been an ass.
But I am learning~.
Hey, Stranger
4 days ago
5 comments:
Great post, man. Keep learning lessons and smoothing out your own path. And keep blogging!
Just wanted you to know I enjoy reading your blog. All of you seem to have a real talent in your writing. Keep it up please :)
Isn't it amazing the things we're able to learn when holding death at bay?? Your blog is inspiring because it's REAL and RAW and to hear your honesty rings so true. You're going to get through this - it will be hard and it sucks at times, but you are going to stay strong. Always thinking of you...
i miss you... hope you're okay. you've been in my thoughts.
Where are you? I look for you daily.
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