Confused Much?

Sometimes we are at the top of our game -- riding these amazing adventures, and not looking down.  Other times, we are just trying to grab onto something.  Anything.  But we just can't.

It is as though we feel we aren't good enough.  Not worthy enough to make ourselves happy.  Or possibly not good enough to take in that happiness.  I know many people who feel that way.  Heck, I do, on some occasions.  And many of my past posts have been an indication of that.

But still, we keep going.  Some of us.  We keep pressing on.  Because we don't REALLY want to give up.  To not reach our potential.  Yet, those moments when nothing seems feasible, we think we can't.  Can't make it.  Can't survive what we've just gone through, or constantly been enduring.

To those people:  (as "Hallmark" as it sounds) you have to keep going.  And I know this contradicts my own thoughts.  Especially when they continue to change.  One moment I'm happy.  Thrilled to be here.  Other times?  I feel as though EVERYTHING is coming down, crashing all around me.  I don't want to be a burden with my words.  This is MY blog, so, I just thought I'd describe myself.

It's confusing.  I know.  These moments confuse me too.  Just earlier, I was happy, smiling and thinking of the future.  And then . . . out of nowhere, something clicked.  Like an autopilot switch.  One that constantly is in between, but more so on the off position.

You become entranced in thoughts.  But those thoughts are blank.  Weird, eh?  Blank thoughts, which then turn into memories.  Ones that are in fact actually you -- in that moment -- in that space -- as though time were standing still, and you were just observing.  But it's not an observation.  It's you.  It's me.

We are the same.  We are what forces one another to not give in to our forced wants.  Because quick fixes are indeed not the solution.  We are the same.  Pushing one to fight until we cannot stand to go any further.

And then -- click.  We're back in the same situation.

Glue

It's another Friday, and I'm sitting inside my room.  Nice weather.  It's mid afternoon.  And the blinds remain closed.  I want to travel outside, and feel the air.  But instead, I sit here, beside my three fans.  And let the modified breeze take over.  I don't think of things to do -- fun, exciting, young adult, or 20 something things to do -- because that's just not who I am.  Although, I could be wrong.  I could be that person, wanting to dance the night away.  Going for a drink in a sports bar, while cheering on my favorite team.  I don't know . . . I never really knew, because I let myself stay in too much.  I've become accustomed to taking chances, professionally, and educationally -- more so than personally.  Not that I think of myself as afraid to try.  Just afraid of failure.  And what's to be afraid of, anyway?  

Each day continues to play out the same way.  And I'm drained each morning, thinking of the never changing cycle.  At times though, my focus changes, but not on the positive.  Not on going out and trying something new.  No, instead, my focus switches to daydreaming about a new life.  A new journey.  One that's not on this earth.  You see, I can force myself to think ahead -- way  ahead -- as if nothing matters.  But that's only when EVERYTHING matters.  And when everything is drowning me.  

I'm stuck.  I'm at the point in my life where either I should be out exploring (especially in the city I live in), and having fun.  But I can't.  I don't know why.  I don't understand how I can feel the need for a change, but just can't do it.  

I work hard.  I stay focused.  Big deal -- most people do.  And I put extreme amounts of perfectionist pressure on myself.  Big deal -- again, most people do.  I've had the same mentality of never feeling good enough, ever since I was young.  That, I know, will never go away.  So, I push it aside, not thinking about it, and stay focused.  I continue working hard, never letting myself think of what I could be doing.

And then I take a break -- because someone says, "relax, you've been working too hard.  You need sleep, or to just get away from what you're doing for a little while.  Then go back to it."  So I take their advice, and breathe.  But that's when I feel my throat closing.  When I feel I'm losing control.  Each time I take a break, I'm never really relaxed.  I remain focused on what still hasn't been done.  What needs to be accomplished.  What I haven't gotten right.  And what I know I messed up on.  I can't take the break.

The only break, which comes from me, hyperventilating, is what sends me to cringe.  I break.  This isn't something new.  Or fascinating.  Most people reach their boiling point.  And I do the same.  I control it, to the point nobody knows.  So that I can't make them worry.  You see, I worry about other people reacting to what I'm doing.  

Perfectionist.  That's me.  Always wanting the best -- especially for others.  And when I feel pressure piling up, I hide it.  "No worries," I tell people, who ask how I'm doing.  "Everything's great," I push out of my typing, to those who send me a message to check in.  I don't like speaking on what I'm going through.  Unless it's positive.  Not that I don't think people would want to know, and help.  But, I've always found it difficult to ask for that.  To proclaim I cannot do something.  That I'm not adequate enough.  Even when I do think that, most times -- I can't say it to someone else.  

And as the time continues to change, I continue to sit.  In the same spot I was when I woke up.  I'm taking a break.  A mental break.  And one I'm too familiar with, which breaks me even more.  

It's not every day.  But most days, when I feel drained.  Yet I keep going.  But in the back of my mind, I know I want to stop.  Stop it all.  So, I pretend (to myself) I'm alright.  My self knows better, but it goes with it, anyhow.  On those days, when all I can see is taking another route -- a one way journey, I force myself to continue.  

I don't know how long I'll be able to keep it up.  But for now, I'm still trying.  And although my mind drifts back and forth, between being up and down, I remain upbeat for those I love.  Even when at times, I can't feel the same towards myself.  I'm stuck.  Wanting to get away from it all, on most days.  And feeling nothing, on others.  

I'll take this break, and then I'll get back to being focused.  I need this break, and yet when I'm on it, I'm not really.  But, I'll try and keep going.  I'll try, because I know I'm working towards something I want.  And the perfectionist side of me, won't stop until I make it.  So, I have to make it.  I have to force myself to NOT break.  

Because if I do, I'll never get to feel the real breeze.   

Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form)

Nathan Bransford, Author: How to Know You're a Writer (In GIF Form): Any time you're not writing your novel you're still thinking about your novel: When people ask you for your thoughts on their...

Just Do It . . .

You can sit inside a coffee shop -- where you're going to begin to reek of coffee beans.  You can constantly make lists -- which slowly get checked off.  Or, you can just get back to work.  Now, I'm not totally speaking of procrastination.  I'm talking about that little urge one gets when they're half focused and half perturbed at not being completely there.  I'm talking about the minute when you're working on something and then you lose your work, before hitting SAVE.  I'm discussing the moment when your deadline hits and it's already the next day.  Nike has a motto for continuance.  Right?  Well, that crap doesn't always work.  "Just do it . . ."  That only works when complete concentration is there.  It only works when you want it badly.

Getting work done, means putting in the work.  It means sucking it up, and just doing it.  When your recording a song, it means -- take after take, keep going until it's where it needs to be.  If you're working on a blog post (hey there), it means to continue writing until you hit, "publish," and you're fine with the outcome.  Although for some of us writers, you're never really all that happy with the outcome -- not entirely.  And lastly, for those of us that write larger pieces -- it's about starting, no matter how early or late, and continuing until you feel that click inside -- that part that says, YOU'VE GOT IT . . . KEEP GOING.  When you make it to that moment, that's when no time frame, no smell of coffee beans, and no abundantly insane lists make you cringe.  That's when you know you can do it.  That's when Nike makes a valid point.  That's the moment in where you can't think of anything else, but to keep writing.  And you do.  You Just Do It.

This . . . this is why I LOVE Mariska!

Watch the video below, and you'll see yet another reason why I LOVE Mariska Hargitay!

Stopping to save lives?

So, what happened to me today? 

I guess there is a reason behind being in the right place at the right time.  Less than one hour ago (around 6:45pm or 7:00pm), while biking back -- taking my normal route -- I spotted something strange happening.  No, the immovable traffic was not that . . .  Well, not entirely.  No, I witnessed stopped traffic, because there was a guy behind the wheel of a KIA, trying to go onto the freeway, from the exit ramp.  Yes, bizarre, I know.  But that wasn't the weirdest part.  The most surreal part was, get this, no one wanted to help.  Instead, everyone's first reaction was to just blow their horns and proceed to scream at the unaware, elderly gentleman.

Not me, however -- I didn't know it before my bike trip, but I guess I was ready for anything.  I jumped off my bike, once I crossed the intersection -- and walked up to the mans car.  Fortunately his passenger window was slightly down, so I could get my words to him.  I stayed with him, trying to calm him down.  He didn't have to show it, but I knew he had to be terrified:  everyone staring at him, mostly because he was going onto ongoing exit ramp freeway traffic, but also because this was out of the norm.  I spoke ever so gently, trying to ease his mind.  While also keeping an eye on the cars that were unsure what was going on.  I asked questions, just as if my American Red Cross training kicked in -- just in time.  Yes, I knew how to check if someone was incoherent, and no, just because he was trying to enter an exit ramp, did not justify my assessment.  I continued to ask him question after question.  I made sure to assure the other drivers that I was doing something to hopefully prevent him from crashing into ANYONE. 

Well, lets just say the questions were answered in a round-about way, where everything was done with a "yes," and head nod.  Obviously he wasn't okay.  And neither was the situation.  Even some of the stopped traffic goers -- the non douchebag ones (who yelled at the guy, and myself) offered and did call the Police.  I called too.  Hey, the more officers, the better.  Because I had been there for such a long time, I guess people began to think I was part of the situation.  And partially that was correct.  I was trying to prevent any harmful ordeal. 

After about 10 minutes of getting the elderly gentleman to look at me, and stop his car -- leading into him putting his car back in drive and inching up ever so frighteningly, I had had enough of my own bartering.  I had to make a defensive choice.  And this was completely imposing to him -- but I had to enter his vehicle (good thing it was unlocked) without his permission.  I had asked him to either put his car in Reverse, or Park -- but with his mental state, he'd just go back into Drive every few moments.

So, I asked one more time, and then I just went in.  I opened his door, realized his car was an Automatic -- I quickly put his car in Park and took his keys out of the ignition.  After that, I knew it would be okay -- for the other cars.  But for him, I was still unsure.  Officer Baldwin of the FHPD arrived on the scene in a good amount of time, and that's when I could release my first breath of fresh air.  A trained person had shown up.  Officer Baldwin came over, and I told him what happened (what I just told you guys), and then I gave him the keys.  He told me what I wasn't even thinking at that moment:  that I might have saved someones life.  Especially since it looked as if nobody else wanted to step up and do the right thing.  That by comforting the elderly man, and quickly taking action, I made sure no damage occurred. 

I didn't leave once the officer arrived.  I made sure to stay with the gentleman until the combined Fire Rescue and Ambulance showed up.  And even after that, I waited with him, right up until they loaded him onto a stretcher and into the EMS.  If he didn't think he had anyone, he had me. 

Gawkers . . . It amazes me how many times we see gawkers and get mad that they're holding up the flow of traffic, yet we never think about why it's happening.  Or whether the people halting the traffic are trying to make a difference . . . It's just fascinating.  Don't you think? 

On the way back from biking another 12 miles . . . I was just in the right place at the right time. 

I guess that's the good thing about taking a bike, instead of a car . . .

Layered

 

This is what most people think of, when they think of children:  an open space; a jungle gym; a peaceful day.  And yet it's empty.  There are no inhabitants.  Nothing but wildlife to run a muck   The way that it was originally intended to be.  A preserve for those who were here prior to the construction of pieced land.  Animals sneaking their way into the grass, flying so low, so that they can have what humans have made theirs.  Almost as if that small patch is their journey home.  Like Dorothy, just hoping to find their way back.  Back into their reality:  nature.  Untouched by human hand or machine.  Preserved, and still reserved for their rights.  To roam, jump, fly, or climb, just like any other human (minus the flying -- unless on a swing  :-p).