Worried or amazing mind powers?
It’s Day 14 of the 30 day blogger challenge. Today, I’m once again cheating. The original “blogger” challenge was actually a journaling challenge and so everything wasn’t meant for public consumption. I’m changing it up to make it so.
Today’s challenge is about “worries”. You’re supposed to do a worry dump where you write out all your worries. I already do this as part of a mental health check up so, it seems a bit repetitive for me as well as a little too creepily revealing. It’s fine for blogs to be all like that if they’re consistent, but jumping back and forth between dramatics and fun is a bit like that obnoxious friend on Facebook that won’t stop telling you how pissed off they are about this or that or how upset they are about life. I mean, it’s sort of honest, I guess, but it’s also sort of tiresome.
“No one understands how much it hurts to see her with someone else.”
I thought instead I would write for another 10 minutes on how worry affects me and what worry means to me and how I handle it. I think that topic might well be more important than what I’m actually worry about, because, let’s face it, the worries change, but the worrying stays the same. Here goes.
Worry: The Favorite Pasttime of My Youth
If there was one thing I would tell myself as a younger person, it’s not to worry so much. That’s something odd to say too because just look around you; it’s a freakshow out their and tons of worry probably needs to be had about the latest blow up du jour.
But really, what was there to worry about? I mean, sure, if you’re starving and you don’t know where you’re next meal is coming from, then yes, that’s something truly to fret over. But I’m talking about middle class white kid problems. What out there is there really to worry about? That girl that doesn’t like you? There will be another one along soon enough, and she’ll respect you and like you a lot more if you don’t just date any ol troll that shows you affection.
That job you got fired from as a teenager? Who cares? Do you really think they’re not going to hire you at the law firm one day because your weed dealer Pizza Hut manager couldn’t decide if it was you or one of the other three people that stole a hundred dollars one night, and so fired all of you?
That prick teacher/professor who gets off on showing 8th graders who’s boss while totally avoiding teaching them anything? Fuck that guy. He’s a sad sack if getting over on 8th graders is the pinnacle of his life?
Lonely? Yes, 15 year-olds will always be alone forever and nobody will ever talk to them and they’ll never go out of their house and people really are laughing at them behind their backs even though they don’t really know them. That makes a lot of sense.
“Speak for yourself, losers.”
It’s kind of ridiculous when you think about all of it. And that’s both angering and sad looking back from my current vantage point. I just want to scream, “Stop with the angst you overpriviledged dbag!’ Things would’ve been a lot easier to deal with. Without all the worry, you can genuinely focus on the strengths and weaknesses to improve upon because you have more clarity and more energy to direct. I could kick myself for the countless nights I couldn’t sleep because of nonsense.
But at some point, maybe somewhere in my mid 20’s, the worry became somewhat legitimate. People are keeping score then, even if you’re a bit too reckless to realize it. People really are looking at your grades, how you dress, your work history, your credit score, your relationship history, your accomplishments. You go from things being written off and people hoping you turn it around to this sense of being judge and that judgement having consequences. Anyone that’s a hard time finding a job will quickly attest to that fact.
“We’ve got your resume. I’m really going to look it over carefully.”
Even then though, the stuff I tended to worry about was the same stuff I worried about at 15. Does this girl really have a future with me? Am I not doing enough with my life? What if I miss out on the best years of my life and wake up with nothing but regret? What if I make a mistake I can never recover from?
It’s certainly true that any one of those could’ve been quite real: I spent 6 years with a girl that, in hindsight, I could’ve broken up with earlier and saved myself some sanity and focus as well as opening a door for better opportunities to come along. I could’ve gotten caught doing drugs and gone to jail. There’s a lot of serious ….stuff….I could’ve gotten into that could’ve had drastic effects on my life.
But mostly I had that feeling that I was missing out on things. And the weird part about that was twofold; a) in some ways, I actually was missing out on some things that I regret missing out on. Certain nights with certain girls on certain trips doing certain activities. But I realized that everybody has that issue (except Jack White apparently), because you can’t do everything. It’s like going to a bookstore and reading a great book and getting a lot out of it. Part of you can’t help but think, what about all those other books I didn’t get to read? What if one of them was even better or at least something that would’ve made my thinking even better and more meaningful? B)I was missing out on things because I was worrying about missing out on things instead of doing things.
“Dude, you totally DID miss out.” –signed Jack White (aka Baller)
I’m overstating the case a bit. i worried a lot and I still do, but I was no Woody Allen or anything.
At some point, you make a true mistake you can never return from. Perhaps you have a child with someone you don’t really love or get along with. Perhaps you go severely into debt for reasons beyond your control. Perhaps you get a drug problem. Perhaps you have to move home and take care of your sick mother or father. Something real happens, something truly worthy of your worry. Ironically, it’s usually the thing you were only vaguely ever worried about.
After having my own version(s) of such events, these days I try to limit the worrying. It does me no good. And there is something freeing about destroying possible futures. Like the guy that made a porno or something and so can never be the Pope. You open yourself up to other possibilities.
I did say “try”. Cause I’m horrible at it. I worry all the time, but I think I’ve become a master of suppressing it. Or just living with it. I’m not sure how to put it. Like when you’re younger and you feel like you’re about to get hit with something you might tense up. When I was younger, worry kind of gave me that tensed up feeling. Now I don’t tense up because I know I’m screwed if “it” is coming. That might actually be worse; i’ll let you decide.