I don’t really know what I’m thinking right now which typically means I’m thinking so much that I can’t pause long enough to sort through the thoughts. Or really I just don’t want to sort through them because maybe I’ll have a breakthrough and realize something I’m not interested in affirming.
I responded to my dad’s email about owing them money every month. I shook the entire time I typed. I wish I could say that I feel relieved after sending it, but really I’m just more anxious about the response to my response.
Jobs are still up in the air, and that scares me. I’m really happy for B and her balling job she gets to start the beginning of February. It’s a total badass big kid’s job and I hope she really loves it.
I’ve been going through a program called Endure as a guinea pig. They’re a brand new empowerment program started by a friend from high school. Well, really she was an acquaintance that I played basketball and softball with growing up who I’m now proud to say is a friend. We meet weekly to talk about goals and go through a program they’ve created. I always feel stoked and ready to kickass at life after our meetings, but a day or so later I’m back with this feeling of lostness. I don’t know where it comes from.
There’s this concept of… I can’t think of what it’s called right now, but it talks about how some people have a tendency to look to the future with longing and think life is always going to be better after moving or starting a new job or being in a relationship or buying a new car or starting a family, but fulfillment never comes so they spend their entire life running toward something new and looking forward to something, anything to change the trajectory of their life.
I think that’s me. I do that. I’m rarely content in the present and the things I see in the future I want to happen immediately. I want everything that I want/dream of to be my present.
If it all happened now, what would there be to live for?
Maybe that’s my problem too, that I don’t want life to be long. I want to reach everything quickly, make a name for myself, and then disappear. It’s some weird combination of anxiety and depression.
The past couple of days I’ve been trying to actively love my wife in much better and less selfish ways than I have in the past month. I’ve been self-focused and honestly a dick to her. I want to be a good husband.
And then the thoughts of how I could never be that good husband because I have a vagina and even after my voice drops and hair grows on my face that I’m just living in some false reality.
I know this isn’t true, but goddamnit my family and upbringing tell me that I’m some fucked up, mentally ill person. Which I can’t argue to some extent…