How do I say this properly? Everything is amiss.
I know everything happens for a reason and life is what you make of it, but something is wrong. I made a mistake and it made the record that is my life skip.
How do I get this back on track? Will I ever? What am I doing? Take a deep breath. This is gonna be a bumpy ride of a blog.
It all started when I was 16 years old. I flirted with my first coworker. Ever since then it's been a slow decline to where I am today. Every job. Every opportunity has been littered with these sort of situations. I give out too much. I never know when to say when. And it slit my throat this time. Or bit me in the ass, which ever you prefer. I prefer the more drastic of situations. The extreme. Why? I guess it's all I really know. Push it to the limit. And I got burned by that. I gave out too much information (TMF for the kids). How do I get back? How do I skoot back and take a time out? Where do people learn that? therapy? I think everyone needs therapy. Everyone. But are there answers there? Or just more questions? That's what I found so annoying about therapy: there is no give and take. There is just give. And to open up right now is scary. I fell like everything I know is wrong and I need to unlearn all that I have learned. It's not unlike The Karate Kid.
What am I going to miraculously change my stripes mid life? I'm reminded back when I was younger: waking up in the morning right before the sun rose and jogging by the water. I'd see the sun rising over the water. The World Trade Center in the distance and me jogging along to whatever mix CD I put into my CD player (most likely the Days of Thunder soundtrack, don't judge me! I like my David Coverdale!). The joggers passing me by at first wouldn't even look at me as I passed by, but after a while they start to wave and smile. As if I'm part of their secret world. But, like everything in my life, it was not to be. I stopped getting up at 5:25am to go jogging and those people I would pass by every morning knew I wouldn't last. In the beginning they wouldn't even acknowledge me, but after a while when they were waving it wasn't, "Hello" but "Goodbye." There was something in their eyes. They knew I wouldn't last. I didn't. They knew it before I did. They have seen it before: Another young punk trying to exercise. Maybe for the Marathon, maybe because he's confused. He is just a passerby, not a participant in what I'm a part of.
Am I capable of changing? Do old habits die hard? I've been secretly stepping back in social situations. Taking a back seat, listening to to everything I would say to a group of people or a woman at wor and really thinking about what I was about to say. Examine it like I was a teacher. Red markings all over the place. The outcome? Isn't far off from the me everyone knows. Just better. More responsible. I just need to do that every second of my life.
What could possibly go wrong?
