Dark Night

I have seen commercials that read off long lists of side effects. One kinda stood out to me. Night terrors. I remember when I first heard it I thought, 'Why not just say nightmares?' Well last night I figured out the difference.

It took two experiences for me to define it, but I knew what it was before looking up the definition. Two nights ago, I woke up in the middle of the night. My entire arm was numb. I hopped out of the bed shaking and rubbing my arm trembling inside and pacing next to my bed. My wife asked what was wrong and I tried not to explain. That night I took a Unisom sleeping pill, then I felt a little sick, so I took Nightquil so maybe it was a bad mix.

Then last night I took another Unisom. I awoke in the middle of the night again. I was extremely terrified again. I kept thinking about death and it happening inevitably, how I quickly it could happen and how unprepared I am for it. I tried to rationalize the fear away, but it was as if I had been sprayed with the Scarecrow's fear concoction. This wasn't a thought I hadn't thought of before, but much more intense this time. When I woke up this morning, I knew I had been experiencing night terrors. I haven't found them as a side effect of the medication but I have about 40 pills left and I still have trouble sleeping.

Life Lesson

Me Against The World. Fuck The World. If you guessed 2pac, you were right. These are 2 of the many 2pac songs I like and a conversation that I had last night reminded me of why. Last night I explained to a friend that as a kid if there was a girl that I liked that didn’t think I was worth the time of day, my mother would say, “Fuck her.” He laughed and said that he was thinking the same thought as I paused before speaking my mother’s thought. I confirmed that if a person doesn’t appreciate/value you, then “Fuck him/her.” When I was in college, I dedicated myself to the only vehicle I had to attend college, a national NROTC scholarship that I was awarded. The people in the program, which included my friend, were like family to me. The closest biological family that I knew of were multiple states away. NROTC students stayed in upper classmen dorms so I didn’t have opportunities to gel with other new students that were looking to form new relationship. I assumed that all of the people in the program knew and shared those feelings to the extent that arguments/disagreements wouldn’t stop us from being family. We started out with about twenty people in our class and after two years there was only about six of us. In my junior year, I got kicked out of the program. After that I would still talk to the final six, but our paths rarely crossed outside of parties and besides one of the six and one of the original twenty, no one really attempted to keep a friendship going. There were only about four out of the six of us that graduated on time and to my knowledge, three of the six went into the Navy after college. A few years later, I found out that one of the six was getting married and my friend was the best man. Five out of the six attended the wedding. There have been very few places that I’ve gone where I have started meaningful relationships. My friend makes friends easily. Even members of my family, including my mom, have tons of friends of varying degrees. I have never been good at making or keeping friends. People interact with me, sometimes closely, but temporarily. The people that I’ve worked with don’t mix their personal lives with their work lives and I’m not the type of person to impose myself on others. I have met a ton of people throughout my lifetime, but most don’t stick. Logic would lead me to believe that those people don’t value me. In taking the advice of two of the people that are close to me and honing in on my fill in the blank skills I’m left with, “Fuck The World.” I’m a very forgetful person and before last night’s conversation I forgot about the issues that I’ve had with relationships that are mutually valued. I even had the nerve to wonder if I could be a successful politician. Lately, I’ve been thinking about everything in terms of being a politician and winning votes. From appearing in court in front of a jury, to being a fan favorite athlete, to winning over interviewers for a job. I can’t even convince family members to return phone calls or former co workers to recognize my existence, but somehow I thought I could convince strangers to believe in me and elect me in an election. Memories of why I didn’t want children were reintroduced to me last night. Currently, it’s me against the world. Though I know that misery loves company, I dread having to explain to a child that because he/she doesn’t possess any value to the world at large he/she needs to take the “Fuck The World” approach.

Psycho

I have always thought that there is something wrong with me.  In many scenarios, I can't comprehend how other people see the situation.  Sometimes it's to the extent that I feel something must be wrong with the way I'm thinking or the way my brain works.  Often times the setting/situation is a social one and the fact that people have told me that I'm a social person makes me even more concerned about my mental health when these scenarios arise.

About a year ago, I told one of my coworkers about the great time that I had when I traveled to Toronto and attended Caribana.  I introduced the idea that we should take a road trip from Chicago out there.  He said he wanted to, but I believe there was a conflict due to the fact that it was short time and I just threw it out there on a whim.  We decided to table the idea and we both threw out the idea of maybe next year.  Today, he approached me with another coworker.  She came to me and said, "We're going to Caribana, you wanna come?"

I was caught a little off guard, but it didn't surprise me that he had discussed the idea with her.  Here comes the strange part in the mind of me.  He said to me, "Yeah I was talking with some of my friends this weekend and me and my crew decided that we're going to take a trip out there."

"HUH?!" (My brain)

So, I have spent too much time thinking about this.  In my mind, the way to approach the situation would have been for him to ask me if I still wanted to take the trip we discussed last year.  However, I find it tremendously awkward & strange that he would tell me that him and his friends decided to go on the trip I originally planned and invited him to.  The presentation made it even stranger to me because it was as if he were presenting me with my own idea.  I would relate it to me walking up to George Washington Carver and saying, "Check out this cool thing I can do with peanuts, wanna taste?"  Two weeks after he showed it to do this cool thing.

I'm almost positive that someone, actually several someones can read this story or be presented with the story and not get where I'm coming from, not even think there was anything strange about my coworkers statements.  However, I can't.

So, here's how this all ties into my title.  I've heard people discussing the crazy actions of psychos in this country who have committed mass murders.  Although I don't agree with their actions, I can in some instances understand how someone can lose control and do something crazy.  However, I can't understand things like the above and many other common social scenarios.  I would hope that this doesn't make me a psycho, but sometimes being unique leaves you feeling unrelatable and isolated.  This is just one of those frequent moments for me.

20/80

Life ain't fair.  I've heard it a thousand times, but it's still hard for me to accept.  Not necessarily that life isn't fair, but the fact that in my life I feel like none of the relationships I have are fair.

Years ago, I spoke with a friend about the fact that no relationship is 50/50.  He asked me what percentage I felt our relationship was.  I told him 30/70.  Initially he was shocked, but after I explained to him why I felt that way all he could say was, "Damn". After some thought he agreed and I appreciated the fact that he could at least see it.  Today our relationship is more like 30/30, we aren't as close as we were when we lived near each other, but our relationship seems more even than most of my relationships.

Another friend always told me that I expect too much from my friends.  I argued with him that I expect what I give.  We had been through some things in our friendship, moments where it wasn't clear that there was a friendship at all.  He swore to me that things were different.  I felt like I was always an open book with him.  After all friends, best friends anyway, don't keep secrets.  He always had a thing with telling me when he was in a relationship or pursuing a relationship for some reason.  I always told him all the details of my life, he knew about every argument & every fight of every almost relationship.  After he got his girlfriend pregnant he told me that he was finally kissing his girlfriend.  I guess disclosing every moment of your life to someone and asking them to be open with you is asking too much.

I recently stopped talking to my own mother for months.  I guess I just got so frustrated with the lack of fairness in my relationships that I decided I'd rather not have relationships than to continuously come out on the short end of the stick.  I visited my father 4 or more times when I was living in New York with no family nearby, he rarely even called me.  I took all of my siblings out to celebrate on my birthday a few years ago in an attempt to build on our relationships, not one asked me to go out since.  My cousin and aunt that I call my sister and mama auntie missed my high school & college graduation and my wedding.  They still ask me when I'm going to come visit them even though I've visited them several times in spite of their absences at every important event in my life.  I guess they'll have one more opportunity, my funeral.

I firmly believe that nothing happens without reason.  I know that humans by nature want to make excuses for why things suck in their lives instead of taking responsibility for their part in it all.  I'm still searching to figure out what my part is.  Answers like, "You expect too much" haven't helped me to be at peace with things.  I believe that venting serves no purpose when the words fall on deaf ears, but I also don't want to implode with anger and frustration.  I guess I'll continue to write blogs, randomly lash out, and sever ties until I can figure it all out.

Dexter Season 1 Episode 10: Seeing Red

I’m on the last leg of finishing up the first season of Dexter.  I’m about 7 years late, but I tend to catch on to popular television shows & movies late.  I had heard about this show, but the explanations didn’t make sense to me.  A popular television show about a serial killer?  I was curious about the contents of the show, but it wasn’t available on my Netflix account until recently, so I didn’t get a change to quench my curiosity.

I’m not sure if it’s just me, but things usually take a while to catch on for me.  Through the first few episodes, I wasn’t feeling it.  I forced myself to continue watching because I figured even if the show wasn’t my cup of tea, I’d eventually figure out why so many people loved it.  Took me 10 episodes, but I fully understand now.  Dexter is really a dramatic, suspense version of The Punisher, whereas The Punisher is more action based.  In Dexter, he only kills people that the viewing audience feels deserves to die.  His behavior is always justified, similar to a Time to Kill, who didn’t think those guys deserved to burn in hell (with the exception of Zimmerman supporters)?

Episode 10 made me think about fatherhood.  I often think about the lack of fathers in the black community and how so many people take on the challenge of having children and abandon the responsibilities that come with it.  Although I find it less prevalent than it is being portrayed in more recent television, it is nice to see that men aren’t always portrayed as negligent and uncaring.  It has been a little bothersome to watch the show and watch how this man really wants to be in his children’s lives and how difficult it gets.  I feel like there is a lot of reality in that, but I don’t think people see things that way (either parent) when they have children outside of wedlock.  I don’t think that marriage eliminates the possibility of the situation, but I think it demonstrates a level of commitment to having a family that should be a precursor to having a child.  Like going to college doesn't decrease the odds of finding a job, getting married doesn't decrease the odds of keeping a family together.  I find it crazy that people are afraid of the commitment involved in a marriage which can be dissolved at any time and a home which is just debt to be added to the unavoidable list of other debts, but don’t fear the lifetime commitment of having a child.

Watching this show makes me wonder about the psyche of some women.  This woman’s estranged husband was abusive to her so I understand the reluctance to have him as a part of her life; however, I feel like she has to know that he should be a part of her children’s lives.  That’s what she signed up for when she gave birth to their children.  She speaks about how she allows him to see his children as if she’s doing him a favor and they aren’t his children too.  I wonder if she had a father in her life or if people are just so detached from the concept of putting themselves in other’s shoes that they don’t think like that even when it’s their own children.  I feel like in reality there are more mothers pursuing fathers to be a part of their children’s lives (at least financially) than there are fathers pursuing mothers to be in their children’s lives.  Either way, that situation has got to be tough.

Ain't Got No Home

The older I get, the more I realize how much my opinions and beliefs have been affected by my surroundings.  It’s funny how many times I’ve had the nature versus nurture conversations and spoke about this exact topic without applying it to so many of my own thoughts.  When I was growing up, not meeting your potential was being middle aged and working at a fast food restaurant.  That is of course assuming that working at a fast food restaurant is a teenager’s job.

I find myself wondering why I never thought about the opposite end of the spectrum.  Since I started working post-college, I have always considered myself to be middle class, not knowing what that truly means or even what upper class truly means.  I don’t think I’ve had much interaction with the upper class to know it even if I saw it.  From my perspective, the upper class if Floyd Mayweather, Michael Jordan and the hundreds of famous persons that I’ve seen on television.  Kanye made a song about living next to Tom Cruise, which makes me believe that there is a section of the country exclusive to actors and the upper class.  But, what about their directors, doctors, mechanics, etc. that are at least semi rich.  Where do I fall in that spectrum?  I figure that the middle-aged fast food worker is the microscopic blip (I’m thinking about the scene at the end of Men In Black, when the world turns out to be a marble that the giamongus alien throws into his marble bag), but the question then become am I even a recognizable blip?

I can’t say that I’ve avoided this question my whole life, but I think mentally I’ve avoided thinking about it.  I’ve questioned who would care when I die every time I see a Malcolm X poster or hear a 2pac/Biggie reference and their memories are probably a blip in reference to their more popular white counterparts.  What would that make my memory?

This is a lot of deep thought that ultimately leads to my current predicament.  The thought of owning property is very intimidating to me.  I think about the nice houses out in the suburbs or those that I see on television series.  On King of Queens, a delivery guy and a lawyer’s secretary own a home in NEW YORK CITY!  I wonder if that’s even possible.  Is it my lack of intelligence that makes it so hard for me to find affordable housing outside of the hood?  I feel nervous seeing all of the foreclosures on the market from people who thought they were middle class (just like me) until their wife got pregnant and they realized they couldn’t live off of one salary or they lost their job that they were counting on and realized that there wasn’t another one waiting on them.

So, now I’m asking myself questions.  If life is temporary, why do I need to own property in the first place?  I’d love to have something to call my own until I can no longer afford it and it’s taken from me, but what’s the point?  Why pour my life savings into a property that I would in turn have to spend valuable life time tending to an ultimately, it can be taken from me after one unfortunate event and I have nothing to show for it.

I’ve heard so many people say that the above is the reason they don’t want to work for a company or a person and they want to work for themselves.  Well, there are a million people in this society that want a million dollars and very few of that million have it.  Is it optimistic or irresponsible to think that I’m going to be that one?  And what qualifies me to be that one as opposed to anyone else?  I guess I’m just torn and frustrated with life.  I hated that while I was going to school for my Masters degree, and working full time, I ended up living in the projects, overpaying for rent and I refuse to be in another situation like that.  The only problem is that even though I recognized the problem from my past I never found a solution.  As a former math teacher, I feel like I’ve figured out what the problem is, but I’m stuck staring at it because I don’t know how or where to start finding a solution.

Judgement Days

Why does the term mid-life crisis exist?  I’ve asked the same question about Napolean complex.  I’ve had people respond by saying that due to the fact that you’re short; if you act overly aggressive then it’s obviously because of your height.  If an average sized person is overly aggressive, then what is the stem of their aggressiveness and why isn’t it considered a complex?  Does anyone outside of me see the word complex as wrong, as a way of making someone feel worse about who they are?

I’m currently watching an old episode of the Steve Harvey show (from back when I thought Steve Harvey was a respectable person).  In this episode he’s having a “mid-life crisis”.  He’s striving to achieve the goals that he set out for himself when he was a kid.  So apparently, when you strive to achieve your goals after 40 (or younger depending on the judgmental and condescending person that’s using this term) then you’re in a crisis.  I’m assuming that this only applies if it’s not a goal like being president considering the younger president was 42.

It’s no wonder the country struggles with depression and self-acceptance.  Attempting to avoid judgment in society will always leave you feeling bad about yourself.  A friend of mine posted a question on Facebook about women putting on makeup for 30 minutes in the morning.  These are the people striving for social acceptance.  At moments like this I gleefully think about songs like Crooked Smile by J. Cole.  I hope to experience a mid-life crisis every day of my life and make the most of all of my complexes. 

“Peace comes from within. Do not seek it without.”
― Gautama Buddha