There Is No “Off’ Switch

Ever since my last post, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking. Thinking about where I go from here. Thinking about what to do with myself. Thinking about my purpose.

No matter what, a person will always feel. A person will always want. A person will always need. As the title suggests, there is no “off” switch that a person can just flip in their mind and their heart to forget about what they feel, want, and need and just get on with their life. I’ve tried to do that before, and every time, everything rushes back to me all at once, oftentimes leaving me with my mind and my heart in ruins, trying to pick up the pieces and rebuild.

To deny what you feel, want, and need is just foolish. It won’t accomplish anything, and you won’t be able to move, forward or back. You just get stuck in the same place, turning around in circles. However, there is an alternative.

While there is no “off” switch, that doesn’t mean that you can’t turn down the volume. Duty, responsibility, and obligation – all of these, if you feel that they are important enough, can preempt your feelings. Having something or someone to protect, having a duty to carry out, having a responsibility to be something to someone – if you can convince yourself that these are more important than your own wants and needs, then you can move on.

In my case, after a lot of thinking, this is the conclusion that I’ve come to. As strongly as I feel, as much as I want certain things, need certain things, it’s more important that I do my best to protect the people I care about. It’s more important that I’m there from beginning to end, as the first response to trouble, and as the last line of defense. I’m the kind of person that people need, that people trust, but ultimately very few if any care about. And that’s ok. The more I think about it, the more I’m convinced that it’s how things are meant to be.

People like me aren’t necessarily rare, but we’re not common either. For most people, death is the end. It is something to stall, something to avoid, because it means the loss of everything. For people like me, death is a release. It’s the end of pain, the end of suffering, the end of loneliness. I’m not afraid of death, it’s just a release. That’s not to say that I want to die, far from it. Just in the grand scheme of things, I don’t really matter. My loss wouldn’t create much of a ripple in the world, though I’d like to think that what I’ve done with my life matters to those who’ve been affected by it.

In my last entry, I asked myself “Who am I? What is my purpose?” Well, I can say now that I’m the guy who makes the impossible possible. I’m the guy who keeps standing up when I should already have taken more than I can handle. I’m the guy with the sad eyes that people notice, but no one bothers with. I’m the guy who seems strong, calm, cool, and collected on the outside, but lives every day in pain, none of which people can see.

No one knows what life will bring. Maybe things will never change for me and I go through the rest of my life alone. Maybe things do change and someday I can stop turning down the volume. There’s no way to tell, and there’s no sense in trying to make things the way I want them to be. Life will happen, there’s no way around that. In the meantime, I’ll do what I can to make the most of what I can do and to help and protect those around me. If I find the peace that I’m looking for, that’s great. If not, I think I can live with it. I’ve always been the type of person who floats through life. A gentle push, and I float in whatever direction. I float through life, I float into people’s lives, and I float out of people’s lives. The few times that I have someone to talk to will have to suffice. The rest of the time, I’m left to my own contemplations.

It’s not so bad living in the darkness but remembering the light.

The Big Question

Who am I? It’s the big question that pops into my head every now and then and gets my head all in a jumble. On top of that question is What am I? What do I believe in? What do I stand for? What am I worth?

Every so often I have a moment of weakness. It comes out of nowhere, and usually leaves me pretty shaken. I’ve spent the last few years reinventing myself, doing everything I can to become a stronger person, a better person. I’ve been pushing myself hard, sometimes too hard, to become someone worthwhile, someone that can be depended on and looked to for support or inspiration.

But when these moments of weakness hit me, all the confidence and all my drive just runs out of me. That little voice in the back of my mind keeps questioning me. What are you doing? Do you think you’ve amounted to anything? Do you think you’ll ever amount to anything? There’s a reason why no one will give you a chance. Why should anyone give a damn about you? Do you think you matter? Do you think anyone could care if you were gone? Do you really think you’re as strong as you make yourself out to be? Do you know why you feel comfortable in the rain? It’s because it’s where you belong, in the dark and the gloom. It doesn’t just come down to mental torment either. When these episodes hit me, it feels like knives are being pushed into my sides. I can’t breathe, and while I’m collapsed on the floor, all I can do is beat my head against the floor to try to knock things back into order.

I don’t really know why this happens to me every now and then. Maybe it’s because I still don’t fully believe that I’ve become someone worthwhile. Maybe it’s because I choose to live through the pain of my choices rather than abandon them. Still though, they’re my choices, and even though it’s likely that no one will ever understand why I do what I do, or how I see things, I take solace in the fact that I can see the people that matter to me smile, even when I’m dying inside.

Still, I can’t help what I am. I’m an idealist and a hopeless romantic with a strong sense of justice. I’ll do anything it takes to protect my friends and to keep them happy, no matter what the cost to me. I’ve always felt like I’ve been living my life as though I were making up for something, like I need to be forgiven. Might as well keep going with that.

So, in the end, who am I? I’m the guy that people can lean on. I endure pain without letting other people see it. I’ll most likely die young and alone and be forgotten quickly. I’m not precious to anyone, but I’m useful to have around. I’m the boy who waited. Life isn’t fair, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t do my best to even the odds for the people I care about. Maybe I’m not meant to be happy. Maybe despite all that I think I’m capable of, I’ll never be worth anything to anyone. Maybe there isn't any peace for me. Maybe I belong in the background, in the shadows.

They say good things come to those who wait. Sometimes I wonder.