“Every great dream begins with a dreamer. Always remember, you have within you the strength, the patience, and the passion to reach for the stars, to change the world.” — Harriet Tubman
Yikes. This past 39 days have been nothing but an exercise in chaos.
Today, I realized that I’ve written 133 blog thoughts since pi day. That’s definitely more than a few thoughts. None of them completed.
A blog thought is something for this site that I might wanna write about.
Which has been a bit of a theme for the past 12 months. Nothing has gone the way I thought it might.
Nothing at all.
I made an effort to start a few things and only a little progress was made. Basically just setting up the business entity and basic branding. I suppose this is some sort of progress.
Just not as much as I want there to be.
When people ask me how I’m doing my answer continues to be, “It’s complicated. This is true. This also gives me a lot of information based on what they observe of me and what they say.
When I’m writing each entry I think to myself., “I’m probably repeating shit I’ve already said before… I’ll probably do it a bunch… Hopefully it’ll be consistent when I rewrite it. Or at least embodying the emotional context behind the attempt to communicate something.
133 beginnings. None of them finished.
Fucking shit.
Maybe I’ll just revisit some of these and split them individual entries. Beyond those 133 frozen entries, I do have 1,109 journal entries that I can work with.
lol.
Seven months though?
That was unexpected. Somewhere around seven months I was introduced to someone that soon became a someone to me.
It’s easy to love someone when they have so many great features.
A girlfriend basically landed in my lap. Pretty sure I’ve written about this before. Probably indirectly. Dunno.
She lived close to me though. Close enough that we’ve basically seen each other every night since March. But, even though we lived close, the commute and pet logistics ate up a more time than you might think.
Seven months later she’s moving in. However, before doing so we decided to replace the paint and really shitty carpet. This was challenging given the schedule.
I hate squeaky floors.
I’m traumatized by them. When my son was a toddler there was a squeaky door next to him. On my way upstairs or downstairs that squeak would get his attention.
I was told that in order to fix the squeaks I needed to screw the floors into whatever I’m screwing them into. This is surprisingly more time consuming than you think it might. Screwing things takes time.
You can’t have time without Tim. Also it’s a social construct. dO YouR ReSurCH.
Even though time is just a construct it still is a limiting factor in completing goals.
And due to the inaccurate prediction of the length of time it would take to screw everything there was this underlying stress and sense of overwhelm. Not only did I need to play 3D Tetris Shuffle — i.e., putting shit in boxes and constantly moving it around until it’s in its right place — I’ve also had to work through some big, big, feelings and emotions.
I learned what parental alienation and parental alienation syndrome means this year! So interesting… much like all the other mechanics of how all of us actors play our roles. This chunk of text absolutely couldn’t be passive aggressive. Nope. Not at all.
My dad died a year ago on 10/22. That’s been a bummer to process. Not only has it been painful, but the way in which I’ve been processing grief hasn’t been acknowledged nor respected by others that’ve been in my life.
Rather than support I felt contempt. Rather than support I felt judgement. Rather than support I felt as if there was a desire to punish me.
Some sort of fucked up quid pro quo, except that instead of an eye-for-an-eye it’s judgement-for-an-action.
Which sucks.
I’m working through managing the symptoms of ADHD.
I don’t “have ADHD.” Nope. I have the description of a group of symptoms that have been consensually agreed upon as a diagnosis. And all of those symptoms are spectrums. Therefore, I have the symptoms of ADHD. A diagnosis is not an identity.
A diagnosis is not an identity though. It’s just another ephemeral label that’ll likely change over time.
Likely when the DSM changes. Heh.
It’s rather unfortunate when someone with some sort of symptom, diagnosis, or previous pattern — some sort of unhelpful memory or point in time — etch, and are encouraged to etch by those around them, the pattern of that action or memory or symptom or whatever and the unintended consequences as an identity into their neurons.
It’s rather unfortunate that many people don’t realize that they’re not just their labels. Nor are they any one specific label. Nor that they change over time, context, and labeler. Nor that even labels that are meant to positive can be ruinous to one’s psyche.
What?! It’s a positive label!
Like “Smart.”
Like “Perfect.”
Like “Lovable.”
What happens when someone that is “smart” fails some sort of test that determines intelligence? Or competence? Or someone is smarter than them?
Because they feel they’re the opposite of that label. They feel they’re no longer “smart.” Which means what?
Worse, they may feel something like the antonym of that label. “Dumb.” That’ll do as an example. If they’re not smart then they must be dumb.
What happens when someone who is told they’re “perfect” thinks they’re other than that? Or that they’re only fulfilled when everything is just the right way? Or that something they thought was the pinnacle of their work was discredit? Disengaging? Disparaging?
Because they feel they’re the opposite of that the label. They feel they’re less than “perfect.” Which means what?
What happens when someone who is “lovable” feels as if they’re not? What happens if something traumatizes them so bad that they feel as if they’re unlovable? Who would love them? Who will want to help someone as disgusting as them? Who knows? Who cares?
Because they feel they’re the opposite of that label. They feel they’re less than “lovable.” Which means what?
Labels are stupid.
But I guess they’re the common method of describing what people think the identity of the individual is.
Kinda experiencing what they called learned helplessness when it comes to people accepting that they’re not who they think, nor who others think, they are.
All that to kinda lead to Couples Coaching.
Also known as, “Couples Therapy.” But I’m not a licensed therapist. So it’d be an absolutely terrible action to call myself anything like that. I’ve heard stories of others who have gotten fucked by not considering the words, what they do, and the support system the person has in place.
Because I’d like for the relationship I’m in to be more reciprocally supportive and fun rather than the opposite of that.
So, after discussing it with my therapist, I decided to suggest that we look for some sort of couples therapist now while we’re not in any sort of conflict that may be damaging if not handled well by either of us.
Words can really do a lot of damage.
She agreed… and then did a little research and found this thing called The Art and Science of Love by the Gottman Institute.
Because some of those multi-day events can be used to recruit people into cults, I decided to learn more.
And then I learned that they have training for “professionals.”
I have never, nor will I, claimed that I’m “professional.”
Neat enough my coaching certifications were adequate to attend the class for Level 1 training.
Which was the day before the event.
I didn’t learn about the training until 1 day prior… and I managed to get the last in-person spot.
“Complicated.” Lot’s of positive and negative things.
Then after two days of training, and marinating on it for a week, I passed the test and received my “Certificate of Completion.”
Which is very much different than “Certified.”
And by completing Level 1, I was qualified to attend Level 2 a few weeks later. So I did. I attended, learned, tested, and passed Level 2 the last day of the training.
I find the timing, and this whole thing, very, very, funny.
Rather than getting myself locked in a room with my girlfriend for 2 days to be indoctrinated with some sort of information I wanted to know what we getting ourselves into.
So I took the training that is the beginning of the potential of being a trained teacher of the content.
l. m. f. a. o.
I have this mental model that makes how my previous relationships have ended make so much sense now. I’ve got a bit of a different perspective.
Because now I know about the metaphor of the “Four Horsemen” that indicate whether a relationship is in trouble. Criticism. Contempt. Defensiveness. Stonewalling. I’ve definitely felt those kind of things from, and toward, in the past.
I never thought that I was the complete reason for the conclusion of a relationship. It takes two to tangle. I’d definitely tangle myself up something fierce though. Learning this stuff is like learning how all the details of those moments in time that led up to the crumbling of that relationship contributed to the outcome.
Because I’ve got a different perspective.
Now, when I listen to the stories of others relationships, I’ve got a bit of a different perspective. Not just the negatives. The positives. And what people are doing that’s positive.
Now, I need to make sure that me and the lady that’s within the process of relating with me stick to the kind of routine that fosters a healthy relationship.
Now, when others tell me what I should or shouldn’t do in any sort of relationship I have a bit of a different perspective. I still listen, and acknowledge, what they have to say…
But, I’ve got a bit of a different perspective.
So, I listen and acknowledge and do my best to empathize with their beliefs. Acting upon others stated knowledge and wisdom though?
Well… that depends.
Not doing so has definitely fucked me in the past.
Doing so might lead to sticking myself into some sort of uncomfortable situation.