Every Day is like Sunday...

Silent and Gray.

I need to stop waiting for my life to begin. That's how I feel half the time. I'm waiting for my life to really begin, stop fooling around in this big waiting room. I think that's really funny, since I'm in law school and stuff. It's not like I'm a big loser. It's not like I have any real problems. But still I feel like I'm waiting for everything to just melt away so I can really get going. Kind of like I'm living a fake life. This is not my life, it's just a substitute life, and soon my number will be called and I'll be able to start for real. Of course it's absurd. I don't know why I feel this way. Maybe it's just a general lack of contentment. Maybe it's just a general sense of insecurity. Maybe I've never applied myself and I feel like I need to.

I've been thinking about going to counselling lately. It's strange because I feel this is probably the time of my life where I least need counselling. Maybe that allows me to go, because I'm ok with it. I don't know. I used to think I was depressed and maybe I was and still am. I don't know. It's hard to know if you're depressed if you have no benchmark. I feel like I've always felt. I used to think about killing myself a lot. For some reason, it gave me comfort. For a person who death gives an anxiety attack it was never really an option. I never dreamed of doing it, but I liked the possibility. The Control. Bingo. That's the magic word I guess. If there is nothing else that I can control in my life, at least I can control it's existence. I laugh when I think about how hard I work to keep my chin up and always bet my bottom dollar that tomorrow there'll be sun. Because as much as I try, I feel like the world is falling out from beneath me and I'm spinning in malestrom of fear. I feel people think I'm so together (maybe they don't but some have told me so) and I'm not. I'm not together. I'm a mess. But I'm a charming mess. "In this charming car, this charming mess..." So somehow that makes it ok. And then I look at myself and I realize things could be worse. A lot worse. And I feel guilty for my emotions, my feeling. That makes things worse. Why should I feel guilty for the way I feel? I don't know. It's funny how everyone's problems are worse than other people's problems. We can't look at them objectively. We are so self-centered that all we think of is that it's horrible because it's happening to me. So selfish, but unavoidable. I recognize this so I'm ashamed to tell people my problems. But like they care anyway. Ok some do. I have a few "secret keepers" who I've told things too and they've been kind enough to listen. Some people are too self involved to listen. It happens. I don't blame them. So I guess that's why I was thinking about counselling. Maybe just telling someone what's going on. Maybe just ranting for an hour to a stranger. Guilt free. Maybe just getting something off my chest. Maybe just to get some control, or peace of mind, or absolution. Maybe I can learn to forgive.

I need to stop comparing myself to others. It's hard in a world where we are told we have to compare ourselves to another. I think that's the problems with numbers (Not that I'm saying we should get rid of them or anything) if you think digitally then everything is less than/greater than/equal too. I have a lower IQ. I weigh more that you. I have slept with 863 people. My shoe size is 12.5. I make $45,500 a year. You get the picture. It's all numbers. Why can't we understand that there is so much more to the human equation. That all these statistics mean nothing. Sure they could represent something more, but the idea that I did worse on my ACT should not make me feel bad. But I'm told it should. The fact that I can't run a mile in less than 15 minutes, shouldn't make me feel bad if you can run it in 6 minutes. I need to only examine these statistics on a personal level. Is this the score that I deserved based on my amount of preparation? Is this the time it takes to run for my level of fitness? Examining statistics in this fashion are never disappointing. Maybe the real problem is that we expect miracles. Sure, miracles can happen but you can't count on them. Or maybe it's just luck. I got lucky and got a 35 on my ACT. He got lucky and got an abundance of mitochondria in his muscle cells that allow him to run faster. People want to do the least possible and get lucky. When you are lucky it's winning the lotto. Luck is an excuse though. It's a reason to feel bad when you get exactly what you deserve. And its an excuse not to try as hard as someone else because they are lucky. Luck is a myth. Luck hurts people. Luck reinforces luck in a vicious cycle. Luck is unreliable and is not happiness. I'm not lucky. But what about things that happen that are out of your control? That's not luck. It rarely happens if you think about it, but it does happen. But then it is just out of your control. All that matters is what you do with it once it happens. That is the true test of yourself against adversity. And if something fortunate happens that is out of your control. It shouldn't make you that happy, because it didn't come from you. Just accept it an move on.

I think that's enough for today. I didn't mean to go into a dissertation of my life. This is why I should talk to a counsellor and not post it on my blog