There’s no reason to post. I don’t really have anything interesting to say; however, I was thinking about something while watching a movie yesterday and I realized I’ve never shared it with anyone – mostly because no one would care (I wouldn’t) nor do I really have anyone to share it with.
I’ve always had this idea of a place; an evil place. A place that actually embodies evil and all of our fears. I’d like to share that place with you:
I know I’m not alone in this but all my life I’ve had recurring nightmares. I have a few. Some of which have translated into memory – as if I’ve gone through the experience and I can’t separate reality from something that’s just been an ongoing fear/dream.
Among all of my recurring nightmares – one of them is a place (assuming in my subconscious) that is considered (by me) to be pure evil. Pure. Evil. There is a well, in a field, covered by a canopy of wood and stone. A hole in the roof allows light to reach the bottom of this well so you can see where it ends. That’s when you realize it’s really an entrance to another level. Down.
Outside of this “well” – everything is fine. People are having a picnic, throwing the ball around. It’s a bright, sunny day… But close to the well, you can feel the hatred, the evil, the feeling of someone watching you and thinking something gruesome. Peering down, you swear you see something run full speed past the light. Some sort of white, ghostly, evil, person on all fours just booking it through the light. You squint in confusion. You can faintly hear a baby’s cry, moaning.. but also laughter and playing. There’s clearly more than one thing down there. There’s something down there to lure you down, and there’s things down there which show no reason to hide. They will call your name with your mother’s voice or call your name in this deep, long, drawn out manner as if to say, “I’m not calling your name to come to me, I’m calling your name to warn you that I’m coming.”
Evil. Where you think of what you want, and watch it get taken or mutilated in front of you. My dog, Taz, was the first to go down the well. He got off his leash and went right for it to bark at whatever is in there. Jumped down and took off into the darkness. You hear barking, barking, then whimpering.
I couldn’t let this happen to my dog. I lowered myself down into the hole and stood in the light. It’s catacombs… it’s an abandoned underground city, it’s your house but dilapidated, it’s a place you’ve never been but you know your way around, it’s a place you’re lost in. Every turn is a circle, every circle brings you further away from the entrance.
I stood in the light and it runs off in 4 directions. I’m at the middle of a cross roads. I look up and see all the happy people peering down at me. A circle of light with silhouettes of heads from all directions.
“TAAAAAzzzzz” into a whimper because I assume to know the fate of my loving and ignorant dog, who only went down there to protect me.
I choose a direction. A different direction every time. In my mind, I know I’ve been here before and I know which ways don’t work – but I forget the part that it’s a dream.
I have the light of my cell phone. It doesn’t reach the end of any direction. It doesn’t matter if you have light, it doesn’t go far enough… this place is huge but you’re claustrophobic. The darkness feels like walls. Things, bats, people, faces, move in front of what little light you have. You’re not actually sure if you’ve seen it because it’s too fast to follow.
I reach a room with ambient light in it. I don’t know where the light comes from, it’s just ambient. Maybe it’s my eyes adjusting to the darkness. Maybe it’s just a room they want you to see. I don’t know who they are… maybe it. Maybe them, maybe no one.
I’m in a room with stone walls.. it’s a dining room with wooden chairs and a table. People are sitting at it and look at me as if I’ve interrupted their dinner party… covered in cobwebs. Everything is old and hasn’t been touched in centuries. They don’t stay long. They’ve vanished before I can even make out a face. There’s screaming constantly… low level moans and people crying for help. Never all at once. It’s not an orchestra of sound, it’s a conversation. I always think it’s over but then hear someone else. A baby, a child, a friend, a coworker. “Pleeeeeeeeeaassee”
The dream continues on this manner until I don’t think my mind can take anymore. I find my dog, limping, with the leash still attached and following behind him. I find my way to the entrance and I get out.
I’m not sure how or why. I’m never sure what exactly happened. While down there, someone taps you on the shoulder but no one is there. Someone whispers in your ear.. but it’s meaningless babble. You are not alone but there is no one around you for miles.
Darkness. The void of space. The depth of the ocean. No matter what direction you face, someone is 2 feet behind you. You can hear the footsteps. You can’t run because you can’t see… but also because there’s no “escape”. You’re in tight tunnels where you can barely breath but you’re also in rooms so massive it’s just as stressful.
There’s a movie that came out last year, it’s a horror movie. It’s called “As above, so below”. It’s not an ideal movie nor is it winning awards left and right, but it’s pretty creepy.
A movie they somehow took my nightmare and made it a movie. Almost to the T. Handy cam. People sitting in chairs. People staring at you. The distant, constant crying. The sins of your past, the desperate hope for your future. It’s in the Paris catacombs and it couldn’t represent “evil” any better to me. Literally.
That being said, I watched in pure daylight and terrified myself. This is a movie targeted to me. It’s as if the evil place leaked out into a the real world and found a way to taunt me. Watching the movie felt so familiar but obviously nothing I’ve seen before. I actually considered the fact that I may have seen this trailer and THEN had the nightmare. But this recurring nightmare has been going on far longer than the movie has been out.
So if you’re a horror movie buff, check it out… that AND The Babadook… fucked up too.
Just as a preface to this blog post: I wrote it to combat this other lady’s article. I thought, “hey, maybe this will blow up”. I think I got a little ahead of myself. I decided, “well shit, if this makes any waves, I need a pen name… and I don’t think they’d appreciate it coming from a man… maybe if my pen name was a woman?” Yea, you see where this is going. Anyway, I edited it again to make sure you know it’s written by me.
My friend sent me an article the other day. It’s appalling.
THE CURRENT PROBLEMS WITH DATING – A rebuttal to the terrible post written on “EliteDaily”:
#1. We’re afraid of failure. – Oof. A crushing blow to pride. A word that generates so much emotion that you’re probably offended. I’ve thought about this time and time again; I even considered a longer list. But the truth of the matter is, failure is the root to our issues. All of our issues. All of us.
Now, hear me out. Let’s take a look at the list generated by a woman who, presumably, is desperately wrestling with the fact that she’s lonely but wants to be OK with it; a woman who may be coming up with excuses for being alone, instead of facing some problems head on. Such is life.
I’m not afraid of sleeping alone; I’m afraid of sleeping with the wrong person.
I think each of these points will start off the same way: Who isn’t? Let’s consider this though: She states that she’s afraid of sleeping with the wrong person. A very valid point. Who would want to sleep with someone who turns out to be a massive, STD dripping, POS? Someone who has lied to you just to get you in the sack? Who would want to sleep with someone who you later find out the only reason he spent time with you was because he had a bet with his friends to make you attractive and take you to prom and make you the prom queen? YES! I agree with you! You shouldn’t sleep with the wrong man. But how would you know? How do you really know if someone is the wrong person? It makes me wonder how quickly you’d sleep him. Do you sleep with him and then find out later he was a liar? Wouldn’t this be something you know before sleeping with someone? We’ve all been there – the good old days of sleeping around. We consciously sleep with WRONG people. If you’re looking for a relationship, I hope you’re not jumping in bed with the first guy you think you might like. At a certain age, her #1 reason means that she’s tired of sleeping around and waiting for one of her FBs to be the right one.
I’m not afraid of eating alone; I’m afraid of wasting a meal with bad conversation.
This one may be my favorite one. Can you spot the issue before I write it out? If this sentence were a fine wine, I would describe it as: full bodied, some overtones of entitlement, and a hint of royalty… princess to be precise. At what point in your life has anyone ever told you, “ya know, you’re a great conversationalist!!” Wasting a meal with bad conversation? Sweetheart, what makes you think everything that comes out your mouth is gold? I’ve met physicists who I can listen to for hours but bore the shit out of everyone else. I think the problem with this statement, like some of the rest of them, is that you expect the guy to do all the work. Conversation (good conversation) is made when you have similar interest. You would never know what your common ground is if you don’t have a conversation. I would have accepted, “I’m afraid the one thing we have in common to talk about – is the ONLY thing we have in common.”
I’m not afraid of not getting laid; I’m afraid of bad sex.
Ahhh, a playful glass of wine. Served in a very shallow glass, the grape is handpicked by virgin queens wearing white gloves – silk and lace to be precise. Its nectar is removed by the stomping of feet of women previously on “my sweet 16″ featured on Mtv. Apparently she’s god’s gift to men in the bedroom. To keep this simple, I will say this: everyone is different. Some like it soft, rough, from behind, on all 4s, inside, outside, upside-down, in silk and lace, with a leather mask on, with feathers, with chains, with whips, with your imagination. But the real kicker. The honest to goodness problem with this: If you like someone. If you’re comfortable enough to sleep with someone. If you know someone well enough to take them into your bedroom; you should be comfortable enough to tell them your likes and dislikes. NO ONE is a mind reader. To me, this sentence reads that you just lay there in bed and hope he can get you off. At some point in the experience, you need to tell him what works for you. If bad means fast, just remember some guys need some time to get used to you. Nerves, performance anxiety, etc. If he can’t keep it together for over a minute on the 3rd try, now it’s time to talk exit strategy.
I’m not afraid of not getting a text; I’m afraid of staring at my phone, waiting for one.
This is called “The Thrill of the Chase.” To rephrase #5: I’m afraid of rejection. Let’s give you the benefit of the doubt: You like this guy, you haven’t jumped in bed right away, you seem to have a lot in common. You’re texting back and forth. You’re in the honeymoon phase. Then it stops. Ow. That’s when it really stings, doesn’t it? You put your best foot forward, you put yourself on the line.. and you got nothing in return. But that’s life. The same could be said about interviewing for a job you want, not hearing from a friend in a long time, or, in this case, not having your feelings reciprocated. I’m sorry you went through that. But you call up your friends, head to a bar, have a few soda and vodkas with a splash of cran, and look ahead. That guy wasn’t the right one. It hurts but it’s also a part of being alive. What is life if we don’t take chances? What is dating if we’re not putting ourselves out there (both of us, the girls and the boys)? Just remember that if this person doesn’t feel the same way – that doesn’t make you an unlovable, undesirable person. It doesn’t make you ugly. Didn’t text me back? Damn, I really liked her. Ok. Let me take a few breaths to get through the rejection and then look for someone who DOES text me back.
I’m not afraid of wasting my paycheck; I’m afraid of wasting my time.
What? I don’t even understand how these correlate. The more I think about it, the more my head spins. These two conflict with each other. Isn’t wasting your time also wasting your paycheck? If you’re not afraid of wasting it, you may be wasting your time. OK OK, I get it. You mean, “I’m more than willing to spend my money to have a good time – as long as it’s a good time.” You’ll never know if you don’t like skydiving unless you pay for it. This is an investment. There’s risk and reward. Plus, depending on the type of person you are, the burden of price rests on both of you.
I’m not afraid of being myself; I’m afraid of being with someone who makes me feel like I can’t be myself.
I thought about this one for a long time. I like this one because it’s very thought provoking. I asked a friend of mine about this. He’s married (happily) to someone he’s known for a long time. He said, “Being myself? If I could drink beer and masturbate all day, I would. That’s me. Just waste my money all day on booze and cigarettes. But I can’t do that. She would leave me.”
This didn’t solve it for me, but it opened the door to both interpretation and conversation. I don’t think there’s a right answer for this one (other than the original author is wrong). Being yourself is what attracts someone to you. Are you misrepresenting yourself to people to get them to like you and then feel uncomfortable when you want to drop the act? Yikes. I used to date this girl who was a bartender – actually, they were all bartenders. She asked me if I minded that she worked so late. I said, “When I met you, you worked late. Why would I try to change you?” Appropriate, I thought. Supportive anyway. Didn’t really answer the question though.
Then I went back to my friend’s answer. His wife makes him a better person. So the debate is as follows: Would you rather be with someone who you can be yourself with or someone who makes you strive to be the person you want to be?
The answer is both btw. The right person for you should make you feel like you can be yourself while also having a desire to be a better person. For your significant other, for yourself, for the relationship, for the world.
I’m not afraid of being without a plus one; I’m afraid the next one might not be the one.
This is getting ridiculous. See: Fear of Failure / Rejection in every reply above. I still have pictures from my plus ones who didn’t work out. Doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time.
I’m not afraid of losing my friendships; I’m afraid of compromising them for the wrong person.
WOAH. RED FLAG ALERT. If I dated someone who stopped hanging out with her friends, who COMPROMISED her friendships so she can be with me? I’m getting rid of her. That’s strange and needy. And if a girl ever asked me to “lose” my friendships for her, she’s gone. Part of my dating ritual is, after a certain level of comfort, she meets my friends. They actually play a huge part in any future relationship. My friends are my family. If I introduce you to them, you’re part of us. On some level, they’re also you’re friends as well now. I would expect something similar on her end. Part of the fun of dating someone is gaining new friends! What are you compromising? WHY are you compromising? Losing touch with close people due to your relationship is an issue. I completely understand the different dynamics involved but to lose touch? with close friends? Lose friendships? Who is this person you’re dating? Are you hiding?
I’m not afraid of being cold; I’m afraid of being vulnerable.
I’m wearing a jacket reading your article, cause it’s cold as last winter. Every number is another 3 ft of snow. To have a partner means they know you when you’re vulnerable. I’m not saying you let your guard down, I’m telling you that if you like someone, love someone, see a future with someone, you’re going to have to let it down to see if it works. It’s the final test before a serious relationship. If I open up to them, if I share with them some of my secrets, what will they do with it? Guarding yourself is waiting for the right time to do it – fear of rejection is never doing it at all.
I’m not afraid of being alone; I’m afraid of being with someone who makes me feel alone.
You know why high school sweethearts don’t tend to get married? Because they have so much growing to do. We gain identity in the mid to late teens. Eventually, those two people grow into two different people, who may not mesh well together. They have different ideas, goals, and values. It won’t work. Being with someone who makes you feel alone, to me, makes me think you’re been with someone for a long time, and you’ve grown apart. You rekindle it or you decide it’s time to leave – or you don’t date them in the first place – I’m not really sure at what stage of the game this girl is talking about.
Bashing. I’m bashing her. I don’t like to think I am, but I am. To be fair, she has real concerns that challenge people’s decisions every day. Her fears are honest and real. No one wants to be taken advantage of when they’re vulnerable. No one wants to have bad sex, or be with the wrong person. No one wants to settle or get their heartbroken. The best thing to come out of Men in Black (the movie) was this simple quote:
“Well you know what they say… it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all, right?”
That’s pain. We don’t like pain. It hurts. But you can’t have the good without the bad. Relationships are based on trust, values (family, money, time), proximity, and similar interests. The old adage of “opposites attract” is wrong. People fall in love when they realize they’ve found someone they can be themselves around, and want to be better person too. We fall in love when we meet someone who can make us feel better – actually – that know HOW to make us feel better. When we say, “hey, I know I have this annoying habit, I’ll stop”, they say, “no, I love it. It’s what makes you, you.” They’re your best friend.
But think of all the best friends you have. How did they become your best friend? A mix of a few things, I’m sure: trial and error, being yourself, letting your guard down a little, and time. But you’ll never have that if you convince yourself that you’re better off alone. You’ll never have that if you don’t give people a chance.
When asked how he felt about failing 80 times to create the light bulb, Edison has been misquoted to say, “I didn’t fail 80 times, I now know 80 things that don’t work.” He probably didn’t say that but the wisdom is sound.
Two very quick disclaimers:
How and where to find the right person is a whole separate article. In my experience, it’s being in the right place at the right time… so luck. Not big on the tinder stuff. Statistically, when people are faced with multiple options, they will not make a decision. When faced with limited options, they’ll pick something. I do this on purpose in nursing: I put what the patient needs to do in the smallest set of options. I put the shitty options in a larger sample.
I have so many friends that go on tinder dates constantly. Different guys, different days, week by week. I could never understand how a dating site, or an app, where people have one major thing in common (wanting to date) can lead to so much disappointment. I think I know why though. This guy doesn’t make over 75k a year? NEXT. This guy makes 100k a year but doesn’t have a yellow car… NEXT. Too many options.
But the truth is, and I wrote this above, proximity and interests have a lot to do with finding the right person. The right person is close to you and is probably doing the same thing you’re doing… just not at the same time and place that you are. Luck. Or you’re just too scared to be with the person you actually want to be with.
Lastly, there’s nothing wrong with being alone: If that’s what you want. The article I’m upset with is written by an author who tells the reader why she’s afraid of dating, not why she likes being single. I wouldn’t have a single issue if she said, “I like being single because I like having the bed to myself. I’m a loner. Guys come and go but I don’t like being tied down.”
Just don’t bitch that you’re miserable if you’re actively keeping yourself down.
Today I read an article entitled “7 workout tips for men over 30”. When the fuck did I hit an age demographic that has it’s own risk factors and specific articles?
I’m also applying to renew my passport and had to debate between putting brown hair or grey. Sure, I’m not grey NOW… but when this thing expires, I might be. What the fuck kind of decisions are these? Why haven’t we figured out the human genome yet? Where is immortality and flying cars? Fuck.
June 18, 2015 – was day 80 of not drinking. Today is day 82 but I like the sound of 80 better.
It started as a health kick. I wanted to be able to get to the gym without being hungover – make it a pattern – then go back to having a few beers… but as time went on, i realized a lot about alcohol. Mostly that it brings all my friends together. I’m not sure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing. There’s really nothing else to do in CT. We drink here. Shoot some guns in the woods once in a while, drive nice cars when we can.. but mostly we drink. We’re in the book of world records for most bars in a square foot per capita.. or something – which I think means that there’s basically more bars than people in a general area. So, we drink here. When we have benefits, it’s a pub crawl. When our friends want to celebrate something, it’s a pub crawl. When our friends are down from bad luck – it’s a pub crawl.
What’s important about remaining sober is the amount of attention it gets. You can’t just say, “meh, I’m not drinking tonight” without hearing the end of it. Both the good and the bad – but regardless, it draws attention.
“What’s one beer?” “You can have one.” “You HAVE to try this”.
“no, no, and no… why is this so difficult? What part of me saying no effects you in any way? Why does my not drinking causeyou so much anxiety?” In my own little social experiment kind of way, I wondered if people judge themselves based on others. Though I know this to be true, I’ve never seen it in action – until I stopped drinking.
Some people look at the accomplishment. “That’s amazing, good for you!” Those are the people that don’t drink that much as it is. The ones that it’s like pulling teeth to get them to come out on a Friday night, and if they do, they’ll only stay out until 930; well, 9:45 on a crazy night.
Some people look at the issue. “It finally caught up to you huh? You going to AA?” Which I think is funny. That’s the best reaction actually. You learn who thought you had a problem… then you start to wonder if you did. These are the people that probably drink too much themselves. The ones that then ask the questions: “How do you do it? How do you feel? How much money have you saved? How do you come out and NOT drink?”
Then there’s the people who won’t shut the fuck up about it. “come on, have one with me. just one beer. I’m going to get you to crack. What if I got something really expensive for you?” These are the ones that I think realize have little in common with me, and little to talk about, other than drinking. Our thing together is drinking and if I’m not doing that, what the fuck else are we going to talk about?
I didn’t have a problem with drinking, though it certainly was the focus of my social life. To be fair, there’s really not that many high-energy, social places to meet that don’t involve alcohol.
“Let’s get together, blast some music, chat with strangers, and NOT drink”
“Cool – so, … where?”
But the reaction that most interested me was this type of… disgust. “You quit? Why?” Well I thought it was time for a break, i was spending too much money, I wanted to get healthy, I’m trying to be an adult, I wanted to value sleep again, I’m trying to lose some weight, trying to look good, need to be at the top of my game at work, my dad died from it … you know, normal stuff. “yea, but… why did you QUIT drinking?” Well I feel that if I have ONE, i’ll convince myself to have another and I really don’t want to go down that road. “Yea but you QUIT?” Yes. “So you’re not fun anymore.” <- actual="" an="" p="" quote.="">
Someone said to me, “Well it’s hard to talk to a sober person. We’re talking gibberish right now. None of it makes sense unless you’re drunk. Talking to someone sober right now sucks. You know, you used to be the life of the party. You would make us get up, be active, you always controlled the music, made us have a good time, talked to everyone… now you’re just there, sober.. I think that’s another reason why. You’re not you anymore.” That’s rough. It was true at the time, but it hurt. It seemed like people only liked drinking ryan and not sober ryan.
I get it. I was too sober focused anyway. I started to take myself too serious. But as a previous post explained – I think I’m finally finding the happy medium – the middle ground of “sober and mature” and “drunk and energetic”.
The fun part about being sober is at the end of the night. You’ve told me the same story 3 times now and you don’t even realize it. When a drunk person has something to say, that they think is worth it, they’ll tell you.. over and over and over again. People think I’m a psychic.
“Last week though? I was on my bike? and like.. I was riding… and-”
“you swerved when a dog ran out and it turned out to be your lost dog Max?”
“OMG I TOLD YOU!?”
“yea, the green bike right? 10 speed? Got it down the street?”
“Wait… HOW DID YOU KNOW THAT!?”
“You told me, twice so far. Also, how’s your aunt doing? Teresa, the one that’s sick in bed? Last time we talked you were going over there to meet your mother Diane to talk about how she may have pneumonia but you weren’t sure if the medications were helping so you were going to talk to your doctor about switching antibiotics.”
I’m also desperately waiting to be pulled over at 2am. Trust me, I don’t want to be pulled over buuuuuuuuuut I kind of want to. Just so when the officer asks, “You been drinking tonight?” I can say, “nope!” and smile. Then probably get smacked in the face for being so smug.
When will this not-bender stop? I’m not sure. I’ve actually bought a few bottles of wine and some expensive scotch for myself. The way I see it, when I pick up drinking again, It’s not going to be on a Tuesday night at Dive Bar with a Michelob Ultra Pomegranate Raspberry – as fucking amazing as that sounds. It’s going to be on a Friday night, surrounded by the right people, at the right time, for the right reason. Or my next actual date.
On that note, one of the other reasons why I stopped drinking and started to go to the gym was because of the people I’d like to attract in life. I can’t keep getting mad when I expect different results but continue down the same path. We all know the best thing for us. We know the right answers. I’m convinced people mostly ask for advice because they just need someone else to say it out loud. They need to hear it. It’s time I started listening to myself and doing something about it. It’s time to put the best Ryan forward so that the best people for me enter my life – and stick around. Of course, this doesn’t mean I need to be a non-drinker; but for someone like me to save money, I can’t just give myself a budget, I have cut the credit card in half. I can’t be able to use it.
My office has 4 walls and a door. I have tried to make the most of the blank space on the walls including: a map of the world with pins on where I’ve been, a picture of trees, some mirrors, and a big ass clock. I do not have windows and my door looks out to a support beam (which has a plug and a phone jack). There’s also a dry erase board that’s kept outside my door. It usually has upcoming meetings, need to knows, etc. I’ve repeatedly asked that they draw an outdoor scene – maybe a sun with a happy face – and face it towards my door… an illusion of outside.
Things you can do with a box on your hand: Knock over your coffee, knock over your cell phone, point to things (well, the area in which that thing is). I just wanted to see how long I could go wearing a box on my arm. You’d be surprised on people’s reactions. Most people look at me and think, “whatever…”. Other people ask what I’m doing with a box on my arm and I just say, “I just want to see how long I can go with a box on my arm”. Then they shrug it off an carry on conversation. Then I summon the Italian side of me and use my arms to articulate what I’m saying… On the plus side, it keeps me engaged in the conversation. The con is that I knock anything they’re holding out of their hands.
My god, what a great movie. Jurassic World. Finally showing an audience how to make a reboot/sequel. It helps that I’m basically the target audience too.
By no means is this a movie that you walk into and get introspective. You don’t go in with your 3d glasses and leave a changed man. The world doesn’t look any different when you walk out to your car post credits. You will never hear anyone say, “you know what was great advice that changed my life? In Jurassic World, when the T-rex was fighting the I-Rex and Chris Pratt looked at the camera, threw up his arms and shoulders, and said “HERE WE GO AGAIN!”. Really changed my way of life and shit. Never thought of the world like that.” It’s not the next fight club – though.. shit.. what an amazing cross over movie that would be.
My mother asked me, “so how did it get out this time?”
“Well they spliced a bunch of different dinosaurs together, and one can camouflage, and it was too smart… so it tricked them into thinking it was out already… and it got out… wow that sounds bad.”
“Well how did they kill it?”
“The whale dinosaur… killed it… It got too close to the water…” I mean, jesus. I want to sit up in the board room when they think of this shit.
I remember when Jason X came out. Good Lord I love the Friday the 13th series. Even the reboot wasn’t too bad for me. It’s nostalgia mixed in with entertainment. Some movies just can’t do wrong by me because of the connection I have with them. But specifically I remember thinking, They sit up in that board room and meet about this movie:
“OK – we’re ready for a new Jason movie. What do you guys think?”
“how about… Jason.. realizing his mother isn’t coming back, embarks on a journey to find a motherly figure. Finds a middle age woman and begins to kill her family so that he can have her for himself… We can show real character development with Jason- a drive, a reason to kill, compassion, empathy – ALL in a horror movie.”
“Get out. You’re fired. If anyone else comes up with that shit, you’re fired too. Any other ideas?”
“How about he gets frozen-”
“You’re onto something here…”
“And he wakes up in the future-”
“Oh JESUS I’m having a plot boner right now”
“and he kills teens with future weapons”
“AMAZING! BRILLIANT” Everyone claps.
“WAIT wait wait… To add on that”
“OH SHIT – He’s Got IDEAS!”
“BLOCKBUSTER HIT. I LOVE IT. PRINT IT. Get that autistic kid to write the screen play. He did really well with Battlefield Earth.”
But despite what Jurassic World lacked in plot, it made up for in 2 things: Nostalgia and mother fucking dinosaurs.
The real moment of awe for me:
There’s a part in the movie where the 2 kids find the old visitor center – the one from the original movie. They basically walk through the ending of the first movie. The interesting part is how it’s overgrown. There’s weeds and plants growing everywhere. It’s like stumbling upon ancient ruins – the kids in the movie – and the actors themselves – weren’t even alive when the original shit went down. They start dusting off the old Jeeps and repairing them. There’s even a part where the younger kid touches the picture of the velociraptor on the wall… the same picture that came to life in the original. At that point, in my mind, I felt like I was actually dusting off old memories. I sat there with my box of sour patch kids, eating all the green ones first so that by the end of the movie I can polish off the red ones (the ones I really like), with a large popcorn and a large soda (which I don’t even like anymore) and just felt like a kid again. I was overturning some fond 90s memories of dinosaurs, movies, childhood, etc. It was the smell, the food, and the friends I was with that made the experience more than just watching a movie.
We get so desensitized towards things now-a-days. It was good to just escape and suspend disbelief.
Now the next Terminator? I don’t know if I can handle that.
The recent decision to “rebuild” myself has come with somewhat of a cost. For the past 73 days (and counting), I’ve been adding responsibility after responsibility to keep busy. Part of the reason is to stay out of the bar scene. Regroup on life a little. Another reason is to try and become an adult. I think at 31 it’s time for me to say I have a savings, a car, a place, a lover, friends, etc.
However, the battle is no longer with myself. Most of this time has been spent learning inner “peace” or willpower. The continued need to get “abs” is really just me saying, “can you even be healthy? can you stay healthy? can you even reach a goal?” It’s less about looking good (or even caring for my body) and more about proving to myself that I’m in control. That if I want something, I can get it. I would hate to think of myself as someone who tries and always gives up. I don’t mind if I fail.
But again, the battle is no longer with myself. Life, the universe, and everything seem to find some outlet to make sure that as easy as I try to make things, as careful as I try to be, if I try to clean up my act, it’ll find a way to fuck it all up.
Sure, it’s easy to sit back and blame life’s little problems on “the universe”. A car accident when YOU hit someone? How the fuck does the universe owe you anything? But at some point in one’s life, they develop a way to view the world. Not all advice is wrong, not all opinions are wrong, but they’re also not the same. While some people view the world as cold, others see the hope in humanity. While some see starving children and 3rd world countries, others see people helping those kids and aiding those countries. Where someone sees constant misfortune, others see the ‘learning experience’.
What does this mean in the long run? Well, despite what view you hold, there’s a reason why you got there – why you hold that view. Some people just have shit lives. Some people have constant good luck. It’s how the person reacts, how they were brought up, where, when, to whom, mixed with statistics .. and a sprinkle of luck – be it good luck or bad.
Eventually the perfect storm hits this person’s life. As the storm clouds drift away, and the rain begins to settle… what’s left is a view of the world – a view that begins to solidify. Hope either holds strong or fades away. Tears stop falling or they’ve simply run dry. Smiles can’t get any brighter or it’s a just a lie to continue smiling.
Last night I pulled up to the bar with my POSmobile. It’s heavily duct taped and there’s literally lights falling off of it. A homeless man – albeit a successful homeless man who is well known – began to talk to me about my car.
“Why the fuck did you use that duct tape?”
“Well, I drive around all day – it was the only thing I had in a pinch” – a lie. I liked the duct tape. I bought it off amazon. It’s got anchors on it and I live near a beach.
“Shiiiit man. That shit won’t hold anything. You need duct tape?”
“yea… i mean, I’ll get some better duct tape eventually”
“Hold on” – The man walked around the corner while I talked to my friends. Was he really going to get me duct tape? Was he going to BUY it? Was he stealing it? Did he just know where some was? Did someone owe him a favor involving duct tape and the time has finally come to reap the benefits?
When he returned he had bright silver duct tape. for me.
“Holy shit man, thanks!”
“That shit will hold anything up man. Try to rip it”… I ripped it with ease but looked at him like it was a struggle.
“see… that shit’ll stay on even in the rain.”
“Thanks dude, let me grab you a beer.”
And that’s when it dawned on me – for the first time – a homeless man just felt bad for me.. and went out of his way to help me out. I’m humble. It doesn’t matter to me where people come from, what they think of me or other people, race, religion, etc… but there’s just something about being face to face with what’s happening that I thought, “wow, a homeless man just gave ME something.. because i NEEDED it.”
To be fair, he later went on to tell us how the previous woman he was “dealing” with offered him $300 to pee on her. He replied to her, “For $300, I’ll slap her in the face with a tube of shit, I don’t care.” So a real good dude.
It’s tough to hear my friends tell me that I’ve changed. I’m no longer drinking, no longer the life of the party, I don’t stay out late, I don’t care to meet anyone else,… Basically, I work, I gym, I stop for a club soda somewhere on the way home and then I go to bed. I love-d it. I kept saying I was ready to “settle down”. I was faking shots at the bar, ordering vodka and club soda so I can easily dump it out and add water…
But in the midst of rebuilding myself, in starting over, I’m now wondering… how am I layering this back up? What’s my foundation now – and at what cost?
I felt stripped of everything – honestly, just falling short of depression. Lack of interest in the things I used to love, sleep changes, lack of energy – appetite and weight changes that I even consciously did.
I was trying to build Ryan 5.0. Health conscious, more fit, social drinker, active, non-smoker with financial stability and just an all around good guy… A man’s man with a thick beard (in progress). Maybe go back to going for a man bun. Getting the tattoo I finally decided on.
I think I finally decided where I’m going with this.
The first step is to make sure my foundation is right. Don’t let age slip by because you’re mad at the world for how things work out. It’s one thing to go home early because you have work. It’s another to go home early because you’re more comfortable alienating yourself. That’s not a solution, that’s a problem.
I’ve spent a good amount of time writing about how I feel we act against out best interests. It’s no secret that I feel the majority of people spend their day convincing themselves to do the wrong thing while knowing full well what the right thing is.
I know this to be true for one simple reason. The same people that offer advice to me or others, while going through a hard time, are the same people that do the complete opposite when they’re going through something similar. Obviously, this is no surprise to most of you. In fact, I’m assuming 100% of people have been in the same situation.
The following is advice I offered up to someone who was going through some difficult times (edited of course):
I’ve treated a lot of people with depression. Most of them do find ways to turn it around, at least for a short while. I found, over the years, that sometimes it’s not even depression that we all fight.
It’s not sadness, it’s not feeling lonely. It’s actually quite the opposite. Most of the people, that I’ve treated, have some amazing things going on that they just haven’t learned how to appreciate. We fight happiness. We’re terrified of smiling and thinking, “it’s going to be ok” because, eventually, something bad will happen. So we remain guarded. We don’t want to let go and feel loved, because, “what if they leave?” And you know what? Maybe they will. Or maybe they won’t.
I point this out because a lot of people that begin to turn it around have one thing in common: They’re “sick and tired of being sick and tired”. That being said, if you’re tired of being depressed, what’s your next move? Matter of fact, I’ll do you one better. The first step seems simple. It’s not. It’s something you’re not used to quite yet but, over time, you’ll start to like it.
I won’t get into details but not only is there some psychological effects to smiling, but there’s also health benefits.
I had a fortune cookie once that hit home. Fucking stupid that a fortune cookie can turn my anxiety around but it was the first time something made sense:
Act in accordance with reality, rather than what is created by your fears.
The message is the same: tired of it? Sick of feeling that way? Start to live your life like you don’t have it. I know it sounds cliché, and like too much work for someone who has either depression OR anxiety… But for someone who is ready to get rid of either, it’s another good start.
There’s a lot of discouragement when people start to feel sad again. Sometimes I would tell my patients that it’s ok to have really shitty days and live in it. As long as you say to yourself, “this is a funk, let me get it out of me and start to move on again.” there’s a proverb… I think from Confucius… It doesn’t matter how slow you go, as long as you move forward.
We have ups and downs. All of us. Good things happen, and bad things happen; but, it’s not what happens, it’s how you handle it. Sounds like you have a good head on your shoulders. Life is always what you make of it. (sappy, I know)
There’s nothing wrong with being selfish. This is your life and your happiness. Fuck. Other. People. (to a degree)
Don’t judge your happiness based on people who have it worse. It’s apples and oranges. That is not your life. If anything, remember it could always be worse. Just know that if anyone reaches out to you for help, you’ll help. Because you’re a good person and others matter to you. But you can’t take that home with you.
Your happiness is based on your life, not the comparison of others.
As a side note, my friends and I make it a point to celebrate our failures. We actually go out and celebrate. One of the best times I’ve had busting my friends balls and going out was when he was laid off. But that’s my friends. We get through by acknowledging something bad happened, make jokes about it, and figure out how to fix it.
Not everyone who is sad has Major Depression. Depression comes in the form of a lot of things. Sometimes it’s anger, sometimes it’s crying, sometimes it’s just flat affect with little desire to do anything. But some people go through loss (say a death of a loved one or a break up) and have a depressive episode. Those people need time, closure, and a way to get through their pain. They need a shoulder to cry on and a friend to agree with them (whether or not you do or don’t).
If you’re someone who has panic attacks, I have news for you that may put you at ease a little bit (at least it did for me). I’ll spare the lecture on fight or flight but if there’s one thing to take out of it, it’s this: your body can’t sustain that emotional response for very long. If you ever suspect that you’re having a panic attack, the best thing you can think to yourself is, “I just need to wait.” Ever see a child cry for 15 minutes? You know what they do right after? Pass the fuck out. Why? Because it takes a LOT for the body to go through that type of emotional response. Panic attacks can last only up to about 20 minutes before the body runs gets tired of it.
Anyway, that’s my 2 cents. Next on the agenda is the 201 “pleasurable” things you can do. I’ve decided to take a whack at most of them. Save for “spending time with grand kids”.