I Just Want to Help


“I didn’t care for those edibles you gave me, they made me think in a depth I don’t ever really explore!”

“That’s where I usually am, edibles bring me back to the surface for air”

Realization: I am sad, very often.  I often swim in the depths of thought, and while most feel as though they’re drowning when they go beneath the surface of superficiality that we’ve convinced ourselves is our reality, it is where I mentally and emotionally feed my insatiable curiosity.  Within this context, my sadness is not a negative, in fact it is what gives me the enlarged capacity to survive such depths.  On the surface, I am incredibly outgoing, optimistic, silly and generally very content.  The reason for this sadness is that I am constantly reminded of the happiness I’ve experienced throughout my life, I can still feel my memories, can recall how I felt and why at a specific moment in my life.  I am sad because the umbrella most people live under does not allow for the appreciation of these seemingly innocuous periods of time.  I do.

The interesting part of this is that these are the feelings that allow my surface to be what it is.  The constant remembrance of where my heart is and has gone affords me the temporary happiness I feel on a regular basis.  It’s oddly calming to me.  Knowing what lies beneath the surface does not give me pause, it pushes me to reach out and connect.  But that’s the schtick in all of this.  There are 2 parts of myself that I must feed and when I neglect one, the other suffers.  I am constantly searching for inner balance, and it’s exhausting at times.  So what is this other side?

In Light, In Meant: Recently I’ve made some dramatic changes to myself.  I am experimenting with vastly different approaches in both action and thought.  I felt that the pendulum had swung too far in a single direction, and the result of that was less than ideal, fracturing the relatively fragile sense of self I have.  In the light, I began to see the cracks that were becoming larger by the day, but it was not that I was coming apart, it was a breakthrough.  I was capable of seeing who I was, without the fauxtoshop of “real world expectations” that had previously been defined by others. No.  I was seeing my own definition, and felt that I was greater than the sum of what I had become.  I was someone worth caring for as equally as I cared for others.

What this meant was that I had been short-changing myself for years.  I was chasing and never catching.  I was dreaming, but in a box.  The greatest part of myself was hampered, I was a dirty sock.  So I laundered myself, but in the process had come to find that my other sock was missing.  I had 1 clean sock, but in order to feel whole again, I had to find the other sock.  Yes, I had found myself and was evolving into what I felt to be a better person, but I was not complete.

I Just Want to Help: So, I’ve been writing heavily for more than half of my life.  I’ve had multiple people ask me why I hadn’t considered being an English teacher since I was incredibly helpful when people would ask for help to write papers.  It is the side of myself that I am just now embracing as being more than just a hobby, but the essence of my artistic foundation.  I believe writing to be therapeutic and releasing, but why else do I write?  I write for you all.  I can’t lie to say that I do not do it for myself, but my hope and intention has always been to stir up thoughts, to create a dialogue for discussion, basically…a means to drag those into the depths I typically reside in, because I know that as much as we try to ignore the fact that there’s more, we all need to explore it at least once in a while.  What this has created was an environment where people can and have come to quite simply, just talk.  To vent and release some of the angst that plagues us on a daily basis.  Even the “avoiders” need this sort of outlet.

I have been giving heavy thought to a concept for the past few months, and that’s duality.  Multiple core reasons as to WHY I want to do things.  For me, writing was both an outlet for my own issues , but now I see that there’s more…I have found the other sock.  I want to help others.  Sure, I could help build a house or volunteer much more than I already don’t, but the fact remains that I am a talker and listener.  It’s what I excel at, and more to the point, offering my fairly philosophical opinions.  I do not give advice, only my opinion.  I have decided to start-up a group, in which through random writing exercises, I can Live Selfishly, Selflessly.  During my time in the Air Force, I spent time at a Mental Health Clinic, needless to say that I was in the dumps.  What I learned while I was in there, and had inherently forgotten as I distanced myself from that life altering period of time, was that listening to others about their own life struggles allowed me the fuel to not only understand my own demons, but to use my wealth of life experience in such a way that I could help on a personal level.  I was building an emotional house, a connection and memory that would last.   I just want to help, but in the unique way that is my own.  I want to embody Living Selfishly, Selflessly.  I WILL embody it.


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