Zee Blog

The Big 100.

Yesterday was a frustrating day. Thankfully it is over, and today seems to be moving a bit better.

Shauna is in worse shape than she was yesterday though, and it has my parents concerned. She is running a 103.4 Temperature right now, vomitting, and is still complaining about the pain in her side. They're afraid she might have an unknown infection that is causing this to happen. She's been sleeping on the couch whimpering in her sleep ever since I came home. I've been hovering over her like a mother hawk might look over its children. I don't think I've allowed anyone to make a noise louder than a deep breath since I've been here.

This blog is going to be rather jam packed. I figured I need to do something amazing for the 100th post in it.

I've reflected on life a lot in the past couple of days. Has it really been almost five years since I graduated High School? More importantly, who am I now that I wasn't then?

As I wrote in this blog a week ago I feel like I've rushed back into myself. In the past few years I had become so lost as I moved in different directions to try and obtain what I felt I needed to. Parents, friends, girlfriends all caused me to lose something. It wasn't them of course. It was me who chose to lose those things.

Yesterday things were cleared between me and my mystery relationship that it was nothing more than a temporary fling. She was going to be getting back with the man she loved. A bitter pang in my heart would love to lash out at all of it, but I just hope she will be happy.

The aftermath is me now sitting here feeling more like myself than ever, yet with the sting of a fresh cut across my face. I feel that life has given me a temporary footing to jump off of again, much like the choice I was given at eighteen. I turned to drugs with that footing then, sending me to the place I am now.

Drugs are off the map for me now. That chapter has come and gone, so where am I now?

At its simplest, I'm a twenty-two college student still looking at two years of school ahead of him; give or take. I'm struggling through my current semester of school because I let my responsibilities faulter too much from my inability to properly contorl my emotions. I'm wanting out of my parents house, and I've never been so dead set on my writing.

I've put a lot of consideration in going back to my roots: one of which being Martial Arts. I've gained weight over the past couple of years, and I hate it. I dont' feel it reflects who I am inside, and I refuse to let my the physical represent the spiritual.

Since graduation my motivation and discipline has wained. I'm content to try and give myself every single thing I think I need, when what I need to be doing is cinching the belt just a bit tighter. I push through a whole week of school and I think to myself, "The weekend is here. I can sit on my ass the whole time if I want." Wrong.

The mind constantly needs to be spurred into some kind of action. It needn't be as intense as a whole weeks regimen of school work, but it needs to be kept up. Otherwise, Monday will roll around and I'll do what I do now, "Oh god, I don't want to do this." Your mind, much like your body, is a muscle that constantly needs to be worked. I know you've all heard of this, but lethargy is caused by the human body being given what it seemingly wants: constant relaxation. Sometimes our lives, our emotions, carry so heavily on us that it feels like we need to be sitting, to be relaxing. It's at this moment though that we need to do to the opposite. Need to go for a walk, clean the dishes, do something simple that keeps the mind from completely falling into a state of mush. Granted, we all need breaks, but just ask yourself: "Oh man. I have to spend an hour over at the doctor's office after I get off of work. Now I have no time for anything!" I know I get like that. Even an extra grain on the pile can seemingly break me in my mind. Can't let that happen anymore.

I've also put much thought into my nature. I joke with friends that Peter Parker raised me as a child. The truth is not too far from this statement, but the ugly reality is that I'm not Peter Parker. I'm not a Super Hero. I can't save everyone from others or themselves. It's called being a Pacifier.

It's one of the typical roles a child of an alcoholic takes upon themselves. I try to ease the pain of others so that things never boil over. Outside of the home I do that for my friends, attempting to hold the burden they hold added to my own. I can't do it anymore, not unless I desire to kill myself in the process. A part of me would think it to be the noble thing, but in reality it's as far from honorable as possible.

I want to do what Peter Parker, or Stan Lee, did for me: lead by example. I'll continue to help my friends, but not in the same way I used to. I want to show them how to lift their own burden and overcome it, but first I need to show them I can do it. I have people that rely on me for their future and I can't let my present suffocate me.

Changing subjects ever so slightly, Writing.com has helped me prepare and work on these goals. I originally came to Writing.com two or three years ago. It was months before you were required to pay for an account that allowed you more than a handful of items in your portfolio. I couldn't justify spending the money on it then, and so disappeared from the scene until last May. Since my reinstatement I've met some amazing people. I would like to think that I have helped them as much as they have helped me, and if not, well, I'll make sure to work doubly hard for them so that they do feel that way.

This is my fresh start. 100 posts, four years of life come to an end. My strongest desire is to stop looking back at eighteen and thinking, "That was the best moment of my life. There will be no other like it."

To be honest, I'm not writing this to have a bunch of people give me the same old "You can do it!" comments. That's not what I want. Save those comments for when I can prove to you that I have done them.

"Less talking, more action." That is my frame of mind right now.

Viva la Revolution.