I’m 32 and have decided to have an existential crisis, LOL. My anxiety lady told me not to attempt to reinvent the wheel because that isn’t necessary, but I feel as though I am piece-by-piece dismantling my thoughts about life, meaning, and chasing rainbows. I think one of the biggest puzzle pieces is giving up hope. Not in the way you might think—not like resigning myself to death or to assuming life should be a giant depression. But I guess more of redefinition of what a dissolution of hope actually is. For example: when you realize that you have held out hope and gone on a wild goose chase for something that, frankly, maybe isn’t so great, maybe it’s not bad if you give up that hope and accept reality as it is. Shortly after I met with my anxiety lady, I had a bomb dropped on me. A friend of mine who I genuinely thought was in a happy, healthy marriage revealed to me that it’s all a ruse. To say that my jaw dropped is an understatement. I’ve spent time with her and her husband before and I never saw anything that seemed terrible or even slightly bad. When they are alone, she said he threatens her, berates her, and physically pushes and shoves her around. The kids have seen this and are aware that he has a drinking problem and when he drinks, that’s when his temper is the worst. Now, I have another friend who’s always told me that her marriage is great but I’ve never 100% believed her because her husband is a misogynist douche. He talks down to all women, including her, and generally enjoys humiliating her in public. But this other friend and her marriage was a complete surprise. It was like learning that Santa isn’t real and that your parents have been giving those gifts in his name all this time, LOL. It’s made me take a step back that I have taken before to ask: what am I chasing? I’ve asked the question but I’ve never before been ready to look at fearless answers.
I’m not a nihilist and don’t see how I ever could be. I actually do believe in karma and I think if you rely on God to punish the people who deserve it, He will. I know there is injustice in the world and there are plenty of people who would disagree. I get it. We don’t always get to see people’s punishment in this life, but I think it comes back to them one way or another, in this life or the next. You hope that people who are mean and nasty will change, but sometimes they don’t. Some people out there are just assholes. An acquaintance of mine once said he thought the ratio of assholes to decent people was about 1 in 15. I laughed and said I imagined it to be higher. Probably more like 1 in 3 or 4. It gives me the creeps to be around people who think giving $10 to charity gives them carte blanche to be an asshole to everyone else. Or people who are so devoid of emotion and compassion that they may as well be robots. (Think Drago: “If he dies, he dies.” Cool in a movie, not cool in real life.) I know no one is perfect and no relationship will ever be perfect. But I think I’m finally done with chasing after pie-in-the-sky that may never happen. I’ve had the bad habit in life of putting the cart before the horse. Instead of meeting someone and thinking, “Wow. I want a friendship with this person” or “This guy seems cool. I’d enjoy going out on a date with him,” I get it backwards. I decide, “Ya know, I need a BFF who can be my travel buddy. I think I’ll go shopping for one.” “I’d like to be in a relationship and have a boyfriend around. I think I’ll go shopping for one.” The trouble is that I never seem to find anyone who is worth a damn that way. Whenever things develop organically, they work much better. People tried to tell me that during my last relationship but I didn't want to let go. I wasn't ready yet. A friend of mine once referred to herself as being a "bad breaker-upper" because she had to be pushed to the absolute limits of her dignity before she would let a person go and keep them out. I can relate. I've gotten so much enjoyment from moving to my own rhythm that it only further DISGUSTS me that I was so willing to sell myself and my life short for a doofball idiot I barely knew. Grr. I know better. I have a nice house, a good life, a decent job, great friends, and a good family. I have an Iron Man and a Dr Doom on my desk at work, LOL. Annnnd a stuffed Iron Man pillow I bought with Xmas money. I like reading magazines in the tub. I like to keep the house orderly and clean. I like going to the movies with or without a friend and I can't wait for GI Joe Retaliation, Iron Man 3, and Thor 2. That's me. That's who I am and what I like. What I don't and haven't ever particularly derived any joy, pride, or goodness from is chasing after stuff to fill the void. It never got me a friendship that was right or a relationship that was healthy. Period. My closest and best friendships in life right now are the ones that have simply happened out of mutual interest, agreement, and compatibility. No jumping through fiery hoops or play-acting.
I've decided to revisit Camus' The Stranger. Not because of anything other than its discussion of absurdity, i.e. "This struggle to find meaning where none exists is what Camus calls, the absurd. So strong is our desire for meaning that we dismiss out of hand the idea that there is none to be found." (http://www.camus-society.com/the-stranger-albert-camus.html) As I said, I don't think all of life is meaningless or that nothing sacrosanct exists. But I do think sometimes shit happens. It just does. A flat tire, a head cold, a loud jerk behind you in a slow-moving line. I have tried in the past to manufacture significance, read too much into things, and/or grasp at straws to find answers I desperately wanted. One comment could become momentous. One glance could pierce my soul and ruin my night. Fuck that. OK. Flat out. That is no way to live. Sensitive is good but overly sensitive is painful and exhausting. So I just need a refresher, I suppose, in remembering that manufacturing significance or intense meaning in things where that doesn't exist at all or doesn't exist to the degree I have ascribed is neither good nor necessary.
