I reactivated this account with no small trepidation. Perhaps you have read through journals written when you were in a different phase of life and felt embarrassed at what you discovered. If I wasn't so horrified at the blatant honesty and self-important banter that characterized my blog posts back then, I'd wish to keep them there as a testament to how I was then and how I am not now. The hope is always to keep moving forward, not moving backwards or running in place. I am nothing like I was four, three, two, even one year ago.
The last time I contributed my two cents to this site, I was firmly in the middle of a manic episode. This was the reason why I was the king of the over-share and resembled nothing more than a one-trick pony obsessed with navel gazing and my own exaggerated sexual proclivities. After the mania subsides and you recognize the destruction you have wrought, regret sets in and then moves quickly to shame. No matter. I know something of the nature of sustained health by now. As sexy as damaged goods might be to some of us, damaged goods are tough to live with and even tougher to navigate.
What attracts us to sites like this, anyway? A kind of commonality with like-minded individuals? A sexual release? A way to play snarky games like who can coin the most devastating one-liner or put-down? The woman I'm seeing has soothed my nerve endings enough that I actually give people the benefit of the doubt. Once you can entertain the fact that people can, in fact, change with time and that furthermore not everyone who you find a threat is going to stay mired in the same obnoxious state of mind forever, you'd be surprised how much anger and resentment you can cast outward into the universe.
Is it angst? A sense of not quite belonging? Could we delve into many troubled psyches and look at childhood damage, parental neglect, and brain chemistry?
My tenth high school reunion is coming up and I'm thinking I might actually attend. This is from the boy who was violently against anything resembling school functions and boycotted prom for lots of intensely serious reasons. What's wrong with me? Am I mellowing out?
The last time I contributed my two cents to this site, I was firmly in the middle of a manic episode. This was the reason why I was the king of the over-share and resembled nothing more than a one-trick pony obsessed with navel gazing and my own exaggerated sexual proclivities. After the mania subsides and you recognize the destruction you have wrought, regret sets in and then moves quickly to shame. No matter. I know something of the nature of sustained health by now. As sexy as damaged goods might be to some of us, damaged goods are tough to live with and even tougher to navigate.
What attracts us to sites like this, anyway? A kind of commonality with like-minded individuals? A sexual release? A way to play snarky games like who can coin the most devastating one-liner or put-down? The woman I'm seeing has soothed my nerve endings enough that I actually give people the benefit of the doubt. Once you can entertain the fact that people can, in fact, change with time and that furthermore not everyone who you find a threat is going to stay mired in the same obnoxious state of mind forever, you'd be surprised how much anger and resentment you can cast outward into the universe.
Is it angst? A sense of not quite belonging? Could we delve into many troubled psyches and look at childhood damage, parental neglect, and brain chemistry?
My tenth high school reunion is coming up and I'm thinking I might actually attend. This is from the boy who was violently against anything resembling school functions and boycotted prom for lots of intensely serious reasons. What's wrong with me? Am I mellowing out?