Many Departures

I never feel like I have that much going on in my life until I actually sit down to blog when it's been a while. It really makes me realize the extent to which time flies. My cat died not long after my last post. She was on the older side and hadn't been doing that well for a while, so it wasn't completely unexpected. It managed to be wholly devastating anyway though. 

I'm not the sort of person that supports wallowing in emotions like grief or disappointment -- or at least not to the point where it starts to feel like it's doing you more harm than good -- but I can't lie. This has been really hard for me. I've had many pets over the years, but Ched was just special. She's pretty much the only living being I've ever known that I can honestly say never seemed to feel anything toward me but love. It's done me so much good to know that any living thing could really embrace me unconditionally like that because it's certainly more than I can say for even the best humans in my life.

And as tough as it can be to feel sad for the loss of both big and little souls that touch lives, I've realized there's a positive side to grief. It's your proof that you experienced someone and something worth missing. I've literally had whole-ass family members and so-called good friends exit this planet without eliciting so much as a tear from me, let alone full-force grief, but looking back on those relationships, I'm not surprised. They were never there for me. They never laughed with me or cried with me. They never actually acted like they loved me or cared about being part of my life. And to be honest, the feeling was mutual. 

I know a lot of animals are unconditionally loving and loyal -- one reason I've always preferred them to people -- but Ched was that to an unusual degree. She did nothing but love me, even when I got frustrated, irritated, or downright angry with her. I worry that I wasn't always as nice to her as she deserved, but I'm sure she had to have known how loved she was regardless. I tried to show her as much as I could and to the extent that I know how. 

The Good and the Bad of Being 40-Something

I don't know if this is just part of what comes with being in my 40's now or what, but I'm morphing into one hell of a fucking grouch as I age. I've never been much of a social animal, but I'm becoming ever more reclusive and antisocial by the day, it seems. I really fucking hate people anymore, and I don't feel like I have the emotional bandwidth to deal with anyone else's bullshit at this phase in my life. It's showing in some of the decisions I've been making about my social media presence lately.

To name just one example, I just got done fiddling with my settings here to reflect my increasingly shitty attitude toward humanity in general and discarded people from my past in particular. Although I still am allowing this blog to be listed in Blogger's databases, I've decided I no longer wish to allow the search engines to index it. I've also locked down the Facebook settings on my link section -- the only place online I even list this blog -- so only non-family acquaintances and friends can even access it in the first place. 

It just occurs to me that the only people out there actively Googling for blogs I might be writing these days are people that already know damn well I want nothing to do with them. I still don't care to go back to keeping a completely locked blog like I used to on LiveJournal, as I like having something personal that Facebook friends can check out if they're interested in getting to know me better. I still don't ultimately care if any of the sad-ass stalkers I have actually find or read any of my writings here, but I figure there's no need to make it easy on them. 

Out with the Old, In with the New

Every so often in life, I appear to arrive at a kind of... social crossroads, for lack of a better way to describe it. At first, I just find I have trouble relating to my friends groups to the same extent I once did. Then I start noticing myself becoming actively irritated with individual members of those groups, usually because something they do, say, or think seems immature or unreasonable on one level or another. Then one day I just wake up in a state of active disgust with nearly everyone I know from that group and just want to be permanently rid of most of them.

That gradual process of disillusionment is what eventually caused me to realize I'd outgrown the friends I'd had throughout my teenage years, as well as most of my core family. It's what made me want to jettison myself from the online art community years ago, not to mention cut ties with almost everyone that even remembered I used to make digital art. Now it's officially happened with that group of LiveJournal people I used to be so tight with. I'm just sick to death of how petty, and gossipy, and childish they all are.

These are feelings I'd been aware of for quite some time. However, the whole David incident was what really dragged them out into the open. I'm not the sort of person that takes kindly to another person's decision to ignore my wishes and just hop right over any boundaries I might have set, but that's exactly what David eventually decided to do. Right after I removed and blocked him on every social media platform I could think of, he went out of his way to track me down and tweet me on Twitter, the one place I'd forgotten he had an account and failed to enforce a block. Then at some point yesterday, I got another message from him basically begging for another chance at friendship. I had previously responded to the tweet with a brief explanation as to why I didn't want to be friends anymore, but I didn't dignify yesterday's follow-up message with a response at all. I'm only going to tell you once.

Writing Lab: On the News and Where It Comes From

Prompt: "Has the place you've gotten your news changed over the years? Where did you get it 10 years ago?"

As much as it pains me to say it, I didn't even care about the news until a couple of years ago. Intellectually speaking, I was interested in the past (history), but found the present (news) to be insufferably boring. The fact that it was happening right here and right now to the same everyday people I see on the streets made it ordinary to me and I wasn't interested in the ordinary as a young person. That said, I probably got what little news I was actually exposed to from friends, coworkers, and acquaintances. I never voluntarily read newspapers or watched the news on television though. Like I said, I really just didn't care.

The past few years have found me really interested in becoming a well-rounded, informed person for a change though. Digital media and inexpensive all-you-can-consume subscription services were making it so easy for me to explore new topics of interest, so I thought "why not". That's when I started reading news magazines like Time and Newsweek on a weekly basis. At first I really had to force myself to do it, but now I look forward to checking out one or both of those each weekend. There's just so much to be interested in -- medical/scientific advancements, social issues, archaeological discoveries. Politics and diplomatic relations are only a small part of the equation, although those topics can be interesting at times as well. 

A Zebra in a Sea of Horses

Everyone knows that I'm sort of... unique. What everyone doesn't know is that it's not something I've ever actually wanted to be. No matter how hard I've ever tried to fit in at various points in my life, I've always stuck right out like a sore thumb. Sometimes that's a good thing, but most of the time, it's not. Or at least it isn't to me.

Part of that has to do with being mixed race. The rest of it has to do with being neuroatypical. Even at my best, I was never conventionally beautiful, nor have I ever had what you call a winning personality. I'm witty, smart, and have a good sense of humor, so I've always been able to attract people or attention if I really wanted to. But I've also always been painfully aware that I'm not what any man -- Seth probably included -- had in mind when he pictured his dream woman as a young man just getting started in life and deciding what he wants for the first time. Especially not physically speaking. That hurts sometimes.

I wonder all the time what it would be like to know you're actually what your partner always wanted and not just some aging, second-rate alternative that probably had to grow on them over time. I wonder what it's like to meet your partner's parents and have them instantly like you and see you as someone they'd actually like to have as part of their family. I wonder what it's like for your parents to ever have seen you as something other than a huge disappointment. I wonder what it's like for people not to have to "learn" to like you or accept you. I wonder what it's like to know that you've always been everyone's first choice. -- exactly what everyone always wanted and had in mind.

Get Off My Lawn, Kids

I must be getting old. Like... seriously, I've officially reached the point where the way "kids today" go about existing on Planet Earth baffles me as badly as I'm sure my own lifestyle and value system baffled my parents or grandparents. 

I think the weirdest thing to me is the going attitude toward relationships today. It honestly seems as if everyone under the age of 50 considers an open relationship to be the way to go. Like it's some kind of punishment to be expected to actually be faithful to your mate. I've even heard people saying that they think it's abusive and selfish not to be OK with it if your partner wants to sleep with other people. 

Now... I've been the last thing from perfect in some of my past relationships. I've cheated on people before. I'm even relatively open about the fact that my relationship with Seth started while I was still married to Greg. However, I never actually saw that behavior as something that should be socially acceptable or that my exes should have freely allowed me to do. Ultimately, I wanted to be with someone that was not only 100% faithful to me, but that kept me happy enough for me to want to be the same. I fought for it and searched for it until I found it and it's amazing to know that I have another person that belongs to just me and that I belong to in return. I honestly feel bad for anyone that's willing to settle for anything short of that. That isn't a relationship at all as far as I'm concerned.

On Emotional Honesty, Priorities, and Being True to One's Self

It always seems that the more I have on the agenda for work on a given day, the more I actually feel like writing something of my own instead. A blog entry, usually, or a bunch of shorter social media updates... but occasionally a snippet of a longer story, a piece of flash fiction, or a poem. Usually, I react to those thoughts the way I was taught to -- by telling myself I need to get "the important stuff" out of the way first and then if I have time later on, I can spend what's left of my energy doing things I actually want to do.

The trouble with that approach to writing is that nothing expressive or passionate ever actually gets written. There's always something else to do that "needs" to get done or that society would label as more important. By the time I get to the point in my day when I'm out of things to do, it's the wee hours of the morning and I'm exhausted, not only physically, but mentally and emotionally as well. The last thing I want to do at that point is write some more.

In fact, I'm constantly wondering if maybe that "work first, play later" is actually the wrong approach. For me, anyway. It certainly feels like the wrong one. One of these days, maybe I'll learn that it's OK to be someone that makes decisions based on how they feel and not how good they look on paper or how many of the right people sign off on them. When I just allow myself to give the first hour or two of my writing day to something that I'd actually like to write, I don't resent having to work as much as I normally do. I resent the need to earn money less, since it no longer encroaches upon my self expression.

On Living Authentically

Life has made me a huge believer in living authentically. I've just known far too many people that turned out to be something other than they made themselves out to be to feel otherwise. Really, there's private and then there's intentionally deceptive. There's not wanting to tell people things that quite simply aren't any of their business and there's keeping things from other people that they legitimately have a right to know.

I remember when social media was first becoming a thing. I hopped on the bandwagon just like everybody else and I fell immediately in love with the way I was no longer stuck playing the same old roles I'd always been cast in offline. For the first time ever, I was free to be absolutely anything and anyone I chose... and I guess that's when I finally discovered that the person I most wanted to be was myself. It was just so freeing. I no longer had to be that silly, over-dressed, perfectly polite princess other people had always expected me to be. I could have opinions. I could fucking cuss, dammit. I could just go ahead and be every bit as writerly and nerdy as I wanted to be and no one was going to try to stop me. It was a really liberating experience.

Chewing the Holiday Fat

So I finally jumped on the bandwagon and got myself a tablet. It's fucking awesome and totally convenient for those times when I want to read online or look through my social media but don't necessarily feel like being on my phone. It was my Christmas present to myself for really making some great progress professionally this year. I've been working smarter, not harder, and it's been paying off really well. My business feels like it turned a corner this year and I'm excited to see where my writing takes me next. I'm incredibly proud of myself, not only for working as hard as I have, but for actually rewarding myself with something I really wanted.

I'm even happier about the fact that it wasn't even hard for me to make the decision to buy the tablet, because at one point in my life, it totally would have been. I had the money and I was able to score a great deal on a Nexus 10, the kind I wanted the most, so I just bought it. Since surrounding myself with better people and better situations as far as my daily life goes, decisions like that have been a lot easier to make. I'm officially through with letting other people tell me that I'm not allowed to enjoy my life or spend any of the money I work so hard to earn on myself. I'm better when I actually enjoy my life.

On Obstacles and Goals for 2013

Wow, I can't believe that yet another year has been and gone. This realization never seems to get easier to deal with for some reason. I'm sure I'm not alone in this, but I always tend to look back on the year in review, feel like I didn't accomplish very much, and wonder where the hell all the time went. How could I have been as busy as I was -- and really, I'm always busy -- yet not feel like I made any real progress?

Occasionally, it occurs to me that I'm probably keeping myself busy focusing on the wrong things and that's why I feel the way I do around New Year's every year. I always fall into a very well-defined trap, especially professionally. I start feeling like the best way to gain the sense of accomplishment and well being I want most is to focus on earning more money. Money -- at least in theory -- buys you choices, freedom, and wiggle room. I feel like people need more of those things in order to feel happier and to have more time to pursue their real dreams and goals. However, the process of earning money takes up the lion's share of your time and energy, so ironically you never actually get what you were after in the first place.

That's totally what happened to me this year. I wanted to earn more money so that I could afford more and I did that. I was able to pay my bills more easily, as well as pay for a lot of things that my loved ones and I needed. However, I didn't accomplish any of the things that were the most important to me. I wanted to try to reclaim my creativity at least a little bit this year and produce at least two or three pieces I felt were good enough to send out to some publications I have my eye on. I also wanted to get off the computer at least somewhat regularly, get out more, eat out more, go to more local events, and make some memories.

On Thankfulness

Some of my favorite days are the ones where I find myself going back over old posts in some of my blogs or at web accounts like DeviantART. This is probably going to come out totally wrong as far as the impression I'm giving, but I don't have the same problem I see that a lot of other creative people have. I never, ever go back over my old stuff and think: "Holy fuck, I need to just never pick up a drawing pencil or write another word again, because I suck compared to everyone else. I'm embarrassing myself." It's always: "You know what? I'm really good at this. One of the best things I could do for myself is make more time for my personal stuff."

Like a lot of creative people, I'm hard on myself when I actually sit down to create something. I'm pretty lenient and supportive when it comes to other people, but I hold myself to very high standards. I was raised to be that way, even though I am quite sure that my parents don't actually see any evidence that those teachings actually sunk in. I'm not competitive or the sort of person who wants to be better than other people. However, I do very much want to feel like I'm perpetually besting myself as the years go by and I put more and more out there into the world. When I look at all that I'm doing and all that I've done, I have to admit that I'm really pleased with my progress. I'm not where I ultimately want to be by any means, but I do feel like I'm getting there.

........

I  feel like I complain a lot about life and about work, especially offline. However, I have my reasons for it. I don't know of a way to express this without sounding like a whiny little princess, but life has always been hard for me -- harder than it is for some people. At 36 years of age, I now realize that I've struggled with bipolarism that is characterized by potentially dangerous, depressive lows. I've also come to a place where I strongly suspect I may have Asperger's syndrome (and Seth pretty much agrees, as his eldest son has a pretty pronounced case of it himself and he knows what it looks like). 

Riding the Medium Chill

Contemplating crab shells on the beach...

A friend on my LiveJournal list posted an article yesterday that addressed a concept called "medium chill". I'd never heard this term before, but it intrigued me. In a nutshell, people who might describe themselves as medium chill are people who have taken it upon themselves to question the whole concept so many of us are sold as children -- that life is and should be all about constant and ceaseless striving to achieve on a career level. They eventually come to the conclusion that they are happier with fewer things and less disposable income, but more time to spend with family, doing things that truly make them happy. Once they have "enough", they're satisfied and don't particularly feel the need to continue trying to get "more".

The older I get, and the more questions I personally ask myself about my own values, the more I'm discovering that there are quite a few things that I thought I believed, but that really aren't coming from me at all. They were ideals that belonged to my parents and wound up getting drummed into my head as a young person. They were empty concepts sold to me by society and the rest of the world in general. They weren't my real values and that being the case, they didn't lead me to happiness or prosperity when I tried to live by them.