takeshi21

To say this was a fucking weird Christmas would be an understatement. It's not as if I went looking for problems but problems found me.

For starters, I had an honest to God meltdown in front of my parents. As a thirty year old man, who is the first born on both sides of the family (and as a grandkid, too), that's incredibly hard to admit. When I was born, I was given the name Alexander... yeah, as in the Great. My middle name is Takeshi, which roughly translates from Japanese as samurai warrior. I've always been raised as the banner carrier, the child of ambition and success, the progeny that would do his family proud. But these days I'm only filled with doubt, anxiety, and a propensity to run away.

Not surprisingly, the folks really had no idea what to make of my explanation of anxiety attacks and panic disorder. Their responses revolved mostly around "you should figure out a way to reduce your stress" or "life will always be tough," without any real empathy. No shit, guys; your perception of the obvious is nothing short of amazing.

I love my parents. I always have, and, I expect that I always will. But they've never been the type to extend any real emotion support. "Mental disorder" or "chemical imbalances are excuses for people who run from responsibility. So it's exceedingly difficult to even broach my problems, much less find any meaningful solution.

But, I found unexpected support from my younger brother. Growing up, Kris (the traditional German spelling) and I shared a room for 13 years (he's three and a half years younger than me). During that time, I dont' think I single day went by when were really close. Mostly, that was my fault. I was never really nice to him, usually treated him as a younger, lesser sibling, and was preoccupied with my own world. My mom would tell me about how he just wanted to hang out with me, but I couldn't be bothered.

Even though he has a twin sister, he ways always raised as the neglected middle child. While I could do no wrong, our sister (his junior by 10 minutes) was treated as the baby of the family. Unfortunately, that meant that while my parents invariably attended me and my sister's extra-curricular activities, Kris was often left out. He was the kid whose parents didn't attend most of his events

Today, Kris is a semester away from completing his masters degree in behavioral psychology. Mostly, he counsels elementary school-aged children, many of whom have been neglected, if not abandoned by their parents. I don't know if his situation as the middle child prepared him for this role, but I do know that he's by far the most even-keeled of us three kids. Things that throw me and my sister into a rage simply bounce off of Kris. He just takes it all in stride.

It was onto Kris that I found myself explaining all the problems I've had of late. And, he understood.

Ethically, family shouldn't give family advice for psychological problems so he didn't give any specific pointers. But he still listened and still tacitly gave his thoughts. Most importantly to me, and unlike my own decisions of the past, he just took me and my problems in stride. He was ok with the issues I'm dealing with which that meant the world to me.

I can't explain why I was such an asshole to him in the past, but I can tell you that it'll never happen again. He's a fucking awesome guy, and Im fortunate to know him.

PS: I'm off to DC for the job interview. Wish me luck!