Category Archives: Mental Health

Changing, Discovery, Growth, Knowledge, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

It’s Not That Simple

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“Are you a good person?” I’m sure everyone’s been asked that a number of times. If you asked a younger version of me, my answer would be fairly straightforward. I’d unequivocally say yes, and that would be the end of the discussion. If you asked me now, I would tell you, “it’s not that simple.” It’s not a yes or no question—it’s much more nuanced than that. The older I get, the more I realize that there aren’t really any absolutes in life. Not that many things are actually black and white. Most things require a much more discerning eye than simply sorting things into this or that. Everything requires a delicate balance, and life is akin to walking a tightrope. It’s more of a sliding scale than multiple choice. I know that now, but I didn’t always.

I grew up in a triple C home—Conservative, Christian, and Chinese. One of these things has changed entirely, one of them looks different than it did back then, and one of these things can’t be changed no matter how hard I try. I’m sure you can probably figure out which is which. Regardless, this resulted in me being raised in a way that sheltered me from the outside world. I was led to believe that all things could be looked at through a black and white lens. It was good versus evil. Either people were for you or they were against you. You were either righteous or a sinner. It was implied that there was no in between. And for the longest time I believed that. I didn’t know any better.

It wasn’t until college that I started to understand how the world really worked—which is to say that it doesn’t work the way that I thought it did, not even close. Coming out from under my parents’ protective umbrella worked wonders for opening my eyes. My whole life up til then had been oversimplified. I learned (perhaps the hard way) that there is in fact an in between! You’re generally given more than two options in life. Shades of gray exist everywhere despite what I was told. That’s what makes a lot of these hot button political issues so difficult to parse. Take illegal immigration for example, it’s nothing so simple as, “for it or against it.” There’s also a, “yes, but…” and a, “no, but…” amongst other answers. The question itself is far too complex for you to reply with a simple one. There’s more context needed. And you need to ask questions such as is legal immigration easier or harder for certain countries? Can prospective immigrants afford to acquire all the legal documents? Is legally migrating even feasible for certain individuals? Like I said, life is nuanced. But let’s not drift too far into that tangent, let me rein it back in here.

Something I pride myself on nowadays is my adaptability. Yes, I’m stubborn in certain ways, and I work better with a schedule and a plan. But I’m not rigid, not like how I used to be. My worldview and ethos change as I learn new things and gather more information. My perspective is constantly evolving, because that’s how you grow and improve. The one thing it can’t be is static, because that often leads to close-mindedness.   I’ve been through that before, and it’s not a great place to be to say the least. As I’ve said, the main goal is always to be a better person today than you were yesterday—in order to do that, you need to be flexible in thought and in action. Everything else is secondary. Yes, you want to be kind to those around you. Yes, you want to make an impact or a difference. Yes, you want to progress in your career or in your love life or what have you. But at the end of the day, none of this is possible if you haven’t worked on yourself first. If you’re not seeking to be a better version of yourself each and every day what are you doing it for? What “better” entails depends on the person and the day. I guarantee you that it won’t always be the same thing. And it won’t be easy.

But like I always say, everything is a learning experience. You take the good and the bad and you get better from it. It doesn’t matter if you succeed or if you fail, as long as you’ve learned something. You don’t want to be making the same mistakes over and over. You don’t want life to attempt to teach you the same lessons. Life is finite, so you want to make good use of your time. You learn and you grow and you move on. And your perspective continues to evolve. If you can do that then you’re on a path of continual progress, you keep moving onwards and upwards. I’d be remiss not to mention that there is no end to the journey of enlightenment—there will always be more to learn. But that’s not the point. You’re not doing it for a perfect ending. All you’re focused on is improving incrementally. It could be 1% a day or 10% a day, the number itself doesn’t matter, as long as you’re striving for better, and putting in some level of effort.

It took me quite a while to fully understand this, but everything that I’ve been through has brought me to this point. So although I regret wasting my time for so long, I don’t regret any of my past experiences. Especially not the adversity I went through, which helped shape me. I wouldn’t be the man I am today without having gone through all of that. And I wouldn’t want it any other way. Everything happened for very specific reasons. Not all of which are clear to me just yet, but will be with time. 

One thing that has become clear to me is that even though I have since distanced myself from the way my parents raised me, I still believe that they were well-intentioned in their approach. They did what they thought was right, so I can’t fault them for that. However, things didn’t really work out the way that they intended. There were many unintended byproducts of their parenting philosophy, some of which were beneficial and some of which were harmful. But you live and you learn. There was no way for them to know how things would turn out without trying it first. This ended up being more of a lesson for me than it was for them. 

The way my parents raised me has taught me certain facts of life that I want to pass on when I have kids of my own, but it has also taught me certain tactics that I want to stay far away from. They taught me how to be polite and generous. How to be respectful and compassionate. How to be smart and resourceful. But in certain ways they didn’t push me hard enough. They didn’t stress to me the importance of putting in effort or being a driven individual. They didn’t necessarily support me enough in my passions early on, which didn’t give me the confidence and mental fortitude to survive out there in the world. They didn’t provide me with the tools that I needed to set realistic expectations. And they didn’t give me the individual care that I needed. But I’m not going to lay all the blame on them for the way things turned out, because it’s not their fault. It takes nature and nurture and sheer dumb luck to mold our childhood selves into who we become when we get older. 

In this day and age it feels like we’re too often looking for cause and effect. Too often looking for people or things to blame for our luck or misfortune. But that’s just it… Luck and fortune/misfortune are dictated by fate (and/or God, depending on what you believe). Life is random, and sometimes shit just happens. Not everything needs an explanation, and not everything can be so easily summed up. Not everything has a party at fault. Sometimes both parties are at fault, sometimes neither is. And more often than not it lies somewhere in between. 

In many ways that scares us, but it shouldn’t. Life is nuanced and complicated. And answers are only simple at a quick glance. If you drill down deeper you will see that everything is quite complex. Such is life. If you’re looking for a simple or easy life you’re going to be sorely disappointed. Such a thing does not exist if you’re on the path to enlightenment. Such a thing does not exist if you’re continually seeking knowledge. Such a thing does not exist if you’re trying to move onwards and upwards. If you want to be better today than you were yesterday, then you better believe that the going will be challenging. But challenges keep you motivated. Are you up for the challenge?

Depression, Existentialism, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Confidence Lost

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Sorry again for the inactivity. Seems like I’ve been saying that a lot lately. Maybe it’s getting a bit redundant, but I guess I feel like I owe it to my readership and to myself. You know me, I value my consistency above most things. So it pains me greatly that my consistency has been lacking so far this year. This isn’t the way I wanna do things. Unfortunately, life has been pretty up and down for me of late. And it’s been a little hard for me to stay motivated and maintain my focus. I’m trying though, so hopefully we can return to our regularly scheduled program!

If you’ve been following along, you most likely already know that I have a tendency to overthink and become trapped in my own head. It’s something I’ve struggled with since I was young. And while I’ve gotten better about it over the years, it feels natural for me to revert back to it (as with all bad habits). It’s not necessarily by choice mind you. Sometimes various worries and anxieties about life cloud my vision, cause me to lose sight of where I’m trying to go, and disrupt my process. If I don’t stay vigilant, it’s easy to let down my guard. Normally I’m pretty on top of that, and in the past, even when I have let down my guard I’ve done a good job of restoring it, for the most part. But it’s safe to say that it’s not the case this time around.

It’s been a weird six months to say the least, as I’ve alluded to a few times. After visiting my parents in September I found myself in a major funk. It’s come and gone every few weeks since. For a while I was hesitant to call it depression, but it sure felt like depression. I refused to believe that it had come back, because I thought that it was finished and done with. I thought that the war was over. But little did I know how naive I was to believe that. For people like us, this isn’t something that just goes away, not completely. It sounds disheartening, but hear me out. 

Early on in the first round of therapy I had said something along these lines to my therapist. And she had pushed back on my statement, leading me to assume that this was one of the lies that the devil told me. In a way it is, but turns out I was actually onto something, I just didn’t know it at the time. You can probably blame that on poor articulation. Back then we hadn’t yet built a rapport with each other. She didn’t have a great understanding of who I was, where I came from, or the way I talked. What’s more, I wasn’t as forthcoming about my struggles as I am now nor was I as sure of my words. I mean no shit… that’s kinda obvious and expected. After almost three and a half years, and God knows how many sessions, of course I’m way more comfortable now. But I digress.

It’s clear to me now that she had misunderstood my intention. I wasn’t saying that I believed that the pain would never end, or that I would never get better or find healing, which I think is the way that she took it. And when she asked me to clarify, I didn’t yet know how. It really didn’t become clear to me what I had meant until a few months ago, right after the new year. It’s a daily battle for people like us. We have to say no to our demons every single day. It’s not a one & done thing. It’s not, “I beat depression and it’s over for good.” It’s not something we beat once and it never returns. Unfortunately, that’s just not how it works. In a way, this is our vice, just like an alcoholic or a porn addict has a vice. Not strictly by the dictionary definition—no one wishes that they were depressed—but it’s the same struggle. We’re plagued with the same temptation. It’s easier to give up and give in. It’s easier to let your demons win. It’s easier to lay down and roll over.

But the easy way is not usually the right way. That’s become clear to me time and time again. All good things in life require effort. Your mental health is no different. If you want to be truly happy and healthy you need to try and try and try again. Depression and anxiety and any other mental illness will rear its head up and beckon you back. It’s never going to leave you, in that way. But it’s in your power to refuse to let it take hold of you once again. It’s within your rights to deny it it’s strength. Your life is in your control. You can and should and will say no to this miasma of the mind. You have to. Life just doesn’t flow smoothly if you don’t. Each day becomes a chore if you let your depression win. That being said, saying no will not be easy. In fact, it might be the toughest challenge that you face daily. But you will face it, and you will conquer it, and you will feel better because of it.

This is as much a reminder for you as it is for me. I’m just now finding my way back, having lost sight of this since September. Like I said, I had let down my guard, and had some difficulty recovering. Of course there were some traps—which in hindsight were rather obvious—that I had failed to avoid, and there were some misconceptions and false expectations. But still, theoretically I should’ve been well-equipped to handle this. Alas, it is what it is. This is what happened and I can’t change that, but I can be better prepared for the future. One of the most important lessons I’ve learned in therapy is how to set boundaries. Admittedly, this is something I did not know how to do at all beforehand. I was always a rather shy and passive kid. Someone who didn’t give, “no” for an answer. I just could not deal with the discomfort of denying someone. As a result, I allowed people to take advantage of me, making me feel like a human doormat at times. Not a great feeling. 

This is something that I tried to change in college, but it didn’t work out so well. At the end of the day, I was still attending college for reasons other than self-interest (I don’t mean this in a pejorative way). As with most other things, I was doing things for someone else’s benefit, rather than my own. But that didn’t become clear to me until I was already in my late twenties—something that I’ve addressed before. Not to say that therapy created me per se, but I do not view myself as a real life adult human before this. I was a lonely, depressed kid playing dress up. Someone that didn’t know what he wanted to do in life, but was willing to go along with whatever was suggested. When someone told me my new haircut made me look like someone who owned a motorcycle I decided that I wanted to ride a motorcycle. When someone told me I looked like a skater, I decided to buy a skateboard. When I was told that my career was supposed to look like such and such, I took them at their word. Never wondered if it was what I truly wanted. 

Which inevitably led me to many years of angst, filled with feelings of dissatisfaction. I tried my best to ignore them for the longest time. After all, ignoring things was one of my go-to “solutions.” But you can only ignore a problem this immense for so long. Eventually I started to question my worth and wonder what the meaning of life was. Was I meant to work at the same dead end job for thirty plus years? What was my ceiling? Where did I belong in life? All of this caused me to spiral into my self-doubt. An existential crisis if ever there was one. Little did I know that thus began the cycle. My existential crisis would lead to therapy which would lead to healing which would lead to restored confidence which would lead to raised expectations which would lead back to disappointment and doubt. And it would rinse and repeat over and over and over.

How many times will I make the same mistakes until I learn the lessons I’m supposed to learn? How many times will I fall for the same traps? I know better than this. This was the whole reason why I had set up boundaries in the first place—so that the line wouldn’t be crossed unless I allowed it to be. The unfortunate truth is that not everyone cares about you in the way that you need them to. It doesn’t matter if they’re family, friends, acquaintances, coworkers or strangers. Everyone has a different view on life, so any advice or feedback is already tainted with someone else’s opinion. It’s up to you to discern whether or not what someone says to you is pertinent to your life. Some people might see your vision, many others will not. Loved ones might think they’re giving you what you need, but again you need to decide that on your own. 

Your confidence and motivation comes from within. You have to set and reset expectations. Keep pushing towards your goals. Keep your eye on the prize so to speak. You can’t let others dictate to you the timeline—the biggest mistake that I was making. You can’t let others tell you you’re going too fast or too slow. Speed is not what matters, quality is. If you’re putting in the time and the effort to constantly improve and progress, things will come together for you eventually. It’s a question of when not if. Unfortunately, the question of when cannot be answered. You need to have faith that it will happen, and have confidence that you’re capable of this. You hope for success but you do not expect it. Stay humble enough to transition to Plan B if necessary. Things might not work out exactly how you envision, but it doesn’t mean you give up. You just keep pushing and striving for better. Put your head down and tune out the noise. There will be naysayers and haters. They might even be closer to you than you imagined. But all of that only serves as a distraction. Confidence can be lost, but it can also be gained. You just need to find your focus and maintain it.

Changing, Depression, Growth, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Writing

Happiness is Optional

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I might have thought I was done with therapy, but therapy wasn’t done with me evidently. As much as I discovered the first time around, and as much confidence as I gained the second time, there is still much more to uncover in what I consider to be the third go around. As you know, I started seeing my therapist again in September of 2022. And while I didn’t stop seeing her entirely, we had begun to taper off this past autumn and winter. But just as we reached what was meant to be the penultimate session, we began to discuss some things that I had ignored. They just hadn’t been relevant to the conversation up til that point.

What we discussed last year was centered around my writing career. I was doing well mentally and emotionally, but had stalled out in my writing so was looking for direction and guidance. I needed to find a way to get back on track. Needed to rediscover my motivation after suffering through a bit of burnout. Turns out what I needed was like-minded peers to bounce ideas off of and also an outlet where I could both give and receive feedback. In essence I needed to find a community that both helped me to figure out how I measured up, and also helped me to improve. Once I was able to find that, I was able to continue on my path of growth and my writing took off from there. 

I thought this would make me happy, satisfy me, fulfill me. And it did for a time. But I’ve started to feel an emptiness creep in again as of late. I wish it was a feeling that I could ignore, but I’ve already ignored it for long enough. I’ve tried to push it off to the back of my mind, but I’m afraid its run its course. Time to address it for what it is—it’s a wedge that’s driven itself between me and my writing. It’s something that holds me back from investing as much emotionally into it as I possibly can. Even though the true start of my writing career came when I quit my day job, it’s come back around to that point again. It’s something I didn’t want to do, and I hate to admit it, but I find that I have to. In order for me to move onto the next step in my journey, I have to return to the workforce, at least in part. As much as I hated being a member of it, and as much as I hate working for someone else, it’s time to jump back in. 

I’ll be honest, improvement in a craft is exciting and all, but lack of steady income is something that weighed heavily on my mind, as much as I tried to avoid thinking about it. While I’m less motivated by money than most, I still understand that it is a necessary evil. I need it to survive. I was able to make my savings last, along with some assistance, but it’s time for me to get back on the horse. I have no other choice. My time off while unemployed was fun while it lasted, but like anyone else my age, I need to find ways to make money. But let me be clear. It would be a disservice to my time and effort to say that, “I wasn’t working,” because I was. I still had a job to do, but it just so happened to be unpaid. I was and still am working harder than ever, so don’t get it twisted.

That being said, this doesn’t mean that I’m giving up on my writing career or even putting it off to the side. My novel (and the series to follow) is still my primary focus, and this here blog is still secondary. That much won’t change, but the time I allocate to each will. The truth is I’ve reached the point in my journey where my skill has progressed to where it needs to be. I no longer need to spend nine+ hours a day, five days a week developing my craft. I think it’s safe to say that while I’m still learning, growing, and improving, my craft is now developed. It’s just a matter of continuing to hone it, and getting words to paper. I can afford to give up some of that time to pick up a day job. 

But that’s the problem… While I have confidence in my writing ability and my skill set, I do not have confidence in the job search. That’s partially why I ended up staying at the same place for so long (along with a bit of bad luck/poor timing). It wasn’t just fear of the unknown, or the fact that I was risk averse. Yes, those played a role. But I think what it mostly came down to is that I didn’t know what I was doing, and I feel like I still don’t in some ways. Until I graduated from college, I didn’t have what I would consider a “real job.” It’d never been expected of me and no one had ever sat me down and told me point blank, “you need to get a job.” Although that would’ve been nice, no one is obligated to do that for me or for anyone else. Ideally you should be able to motivate yourself on your own without needing a push from somebody else. But by the time I turned sixteen I was already so caught up in my depression and was so lacking in self-confidence that I wasn’t able to find any ambition from within, and that continued on into (and past) college.

While I wasn’t born with a silver spoon, I was spoiled in certain ways, and was likely afforded better opportunities than most. Whether or not I took advantage of them is a different matter entirely. I didn’t have things handed to me per se, but they were there for the taking if only I would put in even an ounce of effort. But that’s where I was lacking the most. It was easy for me to give up and mope, because I was convinced that I wasn’t going to amount to anything. For the longest time I never had to face adversity head-on. I was often offered the easy way out and I would take it every time. I was able to run, hide, and/or ignore things that I didn’t want to address. Which I’ve mentioned before came back to bite me. And it turns out in more ways than one. We’ve already discussed the psychological damage it did to me in detail on multiple occasions, so I won’t touch upon that here. 

Unfortunately, other lasting effects of my evasion techniques have only just started to come to light in my more recent therapy sessions. As I said before, last year I spent nearly the entirety of the sessions discussing various ways of getting my writing career back on track. We spoke a little about the relationships in my life and my personal struggles, but not in that much depth. Our sessions were maybe a little too one-track minded but it was necessary at the time. My passion for writing turned out to be my saving grace. It helped to bring me out of my depression for good (or so I thought). Finding it was what helped me to feel happy and fulfilled for maybe the first time in over a decade. And for that I’m eternally grateful. This is what I want to do, and I’m going to see it through as far as it goes. But I have to admit, I lose sight of my vision at times, and I forget what I’m doing this for. I’ve had to take a step back from my projects for days or weeks at a time in order for me to refocus and revitalize. 

The unfortunate truth is that while I am seeing meaningful progress and improvement on my manuscript, the longer it takes the easier it is to get discouraged. I know that the hard work will pay off in the end. I’m confident in that, but the question is when. And I think that’s what worries me. A man can only work with no pay for so long. I started asking myself if this was really worth it. Deep down I know the answer to that. It’s always only ever been, “yes.” But it gets easy to conflate, “not getting paid in general,” with, “writing is not worth my time.” The mind starts to make a correlation between the two that shouldn’t exist. Which brings us back to the issue at hand. It’s time for me to find a day job, but what and how and where?

These are questions that I’ve already spent some time pondering, but I feel like I haven’t really gotten any closer to finding the answers. I just don’t know what I want to do or what I’m even qualified for. If only finding a job was as easy as they make it seem in video games. Where you can just talk to someone, then start working. But alas… that isn’t how it works. There’s a process that I need to go through, as does everybody else in the world. Eventually I’ll gather up the courage to start applying and waiting, but before I do that I need some sort of gameplan right? 

And that’s what’s left me sitting here with the wheels spinning. Problem is: what I went to school for isn’t the same as what I wanted to study, which isn’t the same as what I did in my previous two jobs, which isn’t the same as what I’ve been doing in my time out of the workforce, which isn’t the same as what I want to do when I rejoin. Confused? So am I! I’ve reached what I think is a midlife crisis. I feel lost and unsure of what to do. And sadly, I can’t reflect on previous experiences to guide me forward. The fact of the matter is I don’t actually have prior life experience that I can look at in regards to this—my work history is just too sparse for that. It’s a shame, because I’ve relied on reflection to help me through my mental illnesses recently.

I was able to think back on the past and point out mistakes I had made in regards to my mental health. I was able to use memories of past trauma to navigate my way around the field and avoid traps and pitfalls that I had fallen into before. Everything that had happened in my life I was able to use to guide me to a better, healthier future. When it comes down to it, that is the most important thing—my happiness and my healthiness. But that can’t be everything. Maybe my parents were right after all. Even though they never told me outright to pursue a career in something that was prestigious and financially stable, it was always heavily implied. Do something that makes us proud, and makes you money. Happiness is optional. 

If only it were that simple… I’ve done the thing that people “expected” of me, but I wasn’t happy or satisfied. I’ve done the thing that made me happy and fulfilled, but it hasn’t made me money as of yet. It almost feels like whichever thing I chose, I lose. So what comes next? I know I’ll eventually figure it out, but I don’t yet know, and it freaks me out.

Mental Health, Sports

Fly Eagles Fly

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It’s finally over (and good riddance too). My NFL season is done. I don’t really talk about sports much on this page for whatever reason. I guess maybe it doesn’t seem that relevant to mental health (although it is mentally and emotionally draining for me a lot of the time). But I think I have to talk about it. If I don’t talk about it here, I feel like the results of this season will weigh heavily on my heart and mind. Best if I just get it off my chest then.

I admit, I don’t look like your typical sports fan. I’m a 5’9” Asian-American male who weighs one hundred and twenty-five pounds soaking wet. I’m thirty-two years old, but probably look closer to twenty-two. And based on appearance alone you’d probably think I’m somewhere between a hipster and a nerd. You wouldn’t be wrong in that assessment. I’ve always marched to the beat of my own drum. Choosing not to conform, and not being afraid to stand out. I’ve always thought of myself as different, but the truth is I think I’ve just always had a hard time fitting in. I never really knew the full reason(s), and I still don’t. But I suspect my varied interests plays a role in it.

While I’m not generally one to start a conversation, I can talk at length about football or UFC, but I can also talk at length about Marvel or Star Wars, or metal and rock music, or politics and the environment. If there’s one thing you should know about me it’s that I can get quite obsessive about my interests. I need to know everything there is to know about a certain band or author or what have you. It’s always been in my nature to try to find out the answers to all of my questions. Not a bad trait to have, but it’s not all rainbows and sunshine. This incessant search for knowledge and information can at times prevent me from living in the moment. And it can end up using far too much of my time. And chances are once you get me talking about these things you can’t get me to stop talking about these things. What can I say? I’m passionate about the things I love.

But it often comes at a cost. Especially when it comes to sporting events. If there’s a UFC event on you can bet that I’ll be watching the whole thing, from the first prelim to the main event. Doesn’t matter if the fighters are people that I’ve never heard of, or athletes that I don’t like, I still have to watch every fight. Part of that is because I’ve always been a completionist at heart. If you give me an RPG I’m looking for and collecting every item, junk or treasure. And you’ll find me doing all the side quests before I even get started on the main one. Which again comes at a cost—more often than not I get tired of a game before I get a chance to finish it. The same goes with listening to music or pleasure reading. I listen to artists by discography in chronological order. Likewise, for authors with an extensive list of works (take Stephen King for example) I will read from oldest to newest. And during COVID I found a Marvel comics reading order online that includes over 15,000 issues, starting from it’s inception to present day (I’m currently in 2008, not that anyone asked), so I’ve been chipping away at it since then.

If this sounds tedious, it’s because it is! But it’s a part of me that I feel like can’t really be helped. I’ve tried to suppress certain interests of mine before in the past, but it’s never really worked out. As much as I pretended not to nerd out in public, I still ended up doing it on my own time. I am a complex individual that’s composed of many parts, not all of them are equal in size, but all play a role in shaping who I am. When it comes down to it, I’m a creature of habit, so once I get stuck in a routine it’s hard for me to break away from it. Even after all this time, I’m still trying to find a delicate balance. How can I do the things I love to do while still being flexible? How do I manage my time if all of my interests demand my attention? Unfortunately, it means that some of these things get neglected for a while. But eventually I always go back to them. Except one thing that I can’t return to, because I’ve never left it behind.

Football. Football consumes me. I follow it year round, not just in the fall when the season is played. Every day consists of reading articles from various news outlets. Once the Super Bowl ends, I look on at Free Agency and the draft. Once the draft ends I’m thinking about training camp. I live and breathe football, even though I didn’t get a chance to play it when I was younger. In fact, I didn’t even participate in sports when I was a kid, which I’m still bitter about, but that’s a story for a different time. Not being able to play did not, however, prevent me from watching a shit ton of sports. Which is something that my immigrant parents never really understood. 

I can’t really blame them. Growing up in China and Cambodia never afforded them the luxury of playing or watching sports. But I digress. My interest in watching sports began in fifth grade, mostly by accident. Our family never had cable consistently, so my TV options were rather limited. After school I would watch TNA Wrestling, and on the weekends I would watch whatever game was on, be it football, baseball, or hockey. It started out at first as just something to do, but I eventually developed an interest in football in particular. I would read about it and check stats in the newspaper, I started buying Madden and NCAA Football video games, and I would listen intently as I watched the broadcasts. Eventually it became part of my routine—turning on a football game once we got home from church. 

That much hasn’t changed in the twenty-two years since. If anything it’s gotten worse. Rather than just watching a game or two on Sundays, it’s gotten to the point where I watch five games at a minimum each week, regardless of if the matchups are good or not. If you wanted to hang out with me on a Sunday, Monday, or a Thursday during the football season you can forget about it! My time slots are booked up. I’ve tried to become more flexible, to be less stubborn, to be less obsessed. But whatever I’ve tried has not worked. That being said though, I know every rule there is to know about the game. I can tell you who plays what position and for what team. I can explain strategy or schemes to you. I don’t look like I know football, but I do. 

But this season was disappointing and tough to watch. Which unfortunately, is something I’m quite used to. Sports fandom itself is a hard thing to understand from the outside looking in. How does this affect us directly? Why do we care so much about the teams that we support? Isn’t it just a game? Yes, but no. Somehow we find camaraderie in a shared interest. These fellow fans become our brethren—brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts. If you really think about it though, how is this different from any other fandom? Do people who read the same books not gravitate towards each other? Do friends who watch the same shows not talk about them together? The only difference is that it’s on a much larger scale and on a grander stage. Sports fandom reaches into the millions, bringing people together from all walks of life. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor. From the city or the suburbs. Local or out of towner. Male or female. It doesn’t discriminate by race or political views. It brings us together. 

And for a while, it allows us to forget about the worries we have in our regular lives. We might have high highs or low lows, but we’re in it together, as one. To a sports fan, we’re as much a part of the team as the players and the coaches. We rejoice with them when we win, and we commiserate with them when we lose. For the last few years, there have been many more wins than losses. But it wasn’t always like that for me growing up. Many seasons ended for us in heartbreak fashion but I can’t remember a season anywhere near as disappointing as this one.

I still remember the day I became a hardcore Philadelphia Eagles fan. Having moved to New England from Philadelphia when I was in second grade, the first few years that I watched sports I mostly rooted for Boston teams, although I did support both the Patriots and the Eagles. But all that changed in 2004 when my two hometown teams faced each other in the Super Bowl. I remember coming to a crossroads, not knowing which team to pick. But as I stated before, I’ve always been different and a bit of a contrarian. So I went against the grain, and sided with the Eagles. Since then we’ve played in three Super Bowls, winning one and losing two. While the Patriots have appeared in nine, and won six. However, I do not regret that decision and I never will.

Since that time, there’s been many a rough season that culminated with a coach getting fired. Or a season that started out with high hopes and promise but fizzled out. Or ones that have ended with disappointment and heartbreak. But each one of those years we learned to temper our expectations, because we had a feeling it would be the same ole Eagles letting us down once again. It had always been a team that fell flat in the biggest moments. One that never could get over the hump. But even through it all, they were still our team. We were still behind them through thick and thin. All that changed in 2017, when we finally won the big game. This was, “the new normal” for us. We expected deep playoff runs and more rings. Our expectations were high, and they remained that way.

Little did we know that it would soon fall apart. It wasn’t meant to be. Just a one off, rather than a dynasty. But even after the winners of that Super Bowl got sent off to different cities, hope was restored. We came so close to winning it again last year. Just a few plays away. So close. So we started out 2023, expecting to make it back. Expecting to be just as good a team as last year. And it started out that way! We were the best team in the league, on top of the world from September to November. But December came and we crashed and burned. Never in my years of watching the Eagles have I seen such an epic collapse. Never has there been so drastic a fall from grace in such a short period of time. One of the best teams in the league for the first three months, but one of the worst in the last seven weeks. So that’s it, we’re done. The season is over. Onto the next one. We’ll try again and start over. But however upsetting it was, however disappointing, the Eagles are still my team forever and always. I’ll always rep the green and white. I’m still sad that this is how it ended, but I’ll still be here cheering them on. Fly Eagles Fly.

Changing, Discovery, Growth, Healing, Mental Health, Mindfulness, Reflections, Self-Care, Self-Love, Wellness

Great Expectations

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I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. I never really have (aside from a handful of times). Truth be told “resolution” is a word that I’m not too fond of to begin with. It’s too definite and suffocating. It’s a results-driven word that sets up a pass/fail scenario. Did I see my resolutions through to the end? If yes, then I succeeded. If no, then I didn’t. For some, it’s not a huge deal. They might say, “oh well, I’ll try again next year.” Or use some other justification. But for someone who overthinks as much as I do, and used to struggle with self-confidence the way I did it could instead be quite damning. The prospect of failure was too much for me to bear.

Before I started seeing a therapist, I had a tendency to spiral. I’d replay scenarios in my head, wallow in self-pity, and I took failure personally. Every time something didn’t go as planned or ended in a negative result my confidence meter took a hit. As I’ve said before, I was not well-equipped to handle adversity, had no self-awareness, didn’t have an ounce of mental fortitude. When times got tough I withered. When the pressure was on I came up small. When misfortune hit everything cratered. So for me, a failed resolution became another reason for why I didn’t deserve to live. I took it as proof that I was worthless, and would always amount to nothing. 

So why bother making them if I was certain they would fail? Why risk it when disappointment was likely inevitable? Not a healthy train of thought in the slightest, but I was not a healthy person. As you know, in the past few years I’ve found my healing. I’ve changed and I’ve grown. I’m not the same scared kid that I used to be. I’m not the same person that used to break easily. I’m not the same guy that looked for excuses not to try. But as much as I’ve changed, a few things still remain. I don’t do New Year’s resolutions, and I probably never will. Perhaps deep down I’m still worried about the pain that failure might cause? Perhaps not. 

Either way, the tradition is results-driven, and as you’ve probably noticed by now I am much more process-driven. I hold myself to a certain standard and I’ll settle for nothing less. I’ve lucked into positive results in the past, but was never able to sustain the success, because I hadn’t set myself up for the future. In order to get repeated good results, you need to firm up your process. It’s hard to do that if you’re not meeting the standard. If I’m being honest, that type of outcome—success without meeting the standard—is futile to me. If the changes I make aren’t permanent, then it’s wasted effort. Everything I do henceforth would be done in hopes that I would hit the mark without knowing how I actually did it the first time. Which is only wasting time. Think of it like an experiment. You write out the steps you need to take in order to get the results that you want. If there’s a mistake in your process, you tinker then try again. And again and again and again. That’s how you learn and grow and improve. By finding out what works and what doesn’t work, and changing your process accordingly.

This is exactly what I lacked when I was in high school—the ability to adapt. I didn’t have a process whatsoever, let alone a sound one. But I still expected success to come of it. I still expected things to work out in my favor, meanwhile ignoring the fact that I had done nothing to ensure such results. You can’t get good grades unless you study the material. You can’t get a girlfriend unless you develop some sort of connection first. You can’t find success unless you put in the work. Sounds obvious, but it wasn’t to me. For whatever reason, I had thought I was a special case. I thought I could get positive results without putting in much effort. In truth, I think at times I was just too smart for my own good. Elementary school came easy to me, so I continued to expect more of the same. I should’ve known that eventually it would catch up to me. But I remained blissfully ignorant and unaware until it was too late.

By that point, I was in college, and in way over my head. Throughout Junior High and High School I had put in the minimum level of effort required to come away with mostly B’s, some A’s, and a handful of C’s. Which was acceptable to me, but beneath my level of care. I kept asking myself, “why put in all that effort if I can do less and still come away with adequate results?” I thought I was being smart, but little did I know that this was always going to come back to bite me. I approached my college courses with the same level of inattention, and I suffered the consequences for it—coming away with the first and last D I ever received. Which nearly ruined my college career right when I had just begun. But I put my head down and got serious, because what else could I do? I needed to right the ship immediately.

After some steady effort for the next three and a half years, I was able to bring my GPA back up to something respectable. But what could’ve been? How different would my life have turned out if I’d actually tried? What if I hadn’t talked myself into accepting a life of mediocrity? What if I had worked diligently the whole time, rather than only for the last handful of years? What if I had been as determined then as I am now? Unfortunately, these are not questions that we will ever get the answers to. Who I was then is not who I am now. I wasn’t someone capable of pushing through adversity. I was weak-willed, a quitter—someone who always took the easy way out. Someone who was used to running away or hiding. Someone who was pampered and sheltered. Someone who never took responsibility or held himself accountable. I thought that all mistakes could be covered up, and that I could lie and weasel my way out of the consequences. I lacked the self-awareness necessary to realize that I wasn’t fooling anyone.

And yet, I somehow lucked my way into mild success. Again, nothing sustainable because I didn’t have a sound process, but it was better than what I’d experienced up til then. For the first time in twenty-four years I was content. But the contentedness was fleeting. As I gained more responsibility at my job, the work became less fulfilling. And the little confidence I had gained whittled away again, and I was left with even less than I’d started with. Little did I know, but I wasn’t meant for the corporate world. I had only entered into it because, like always, I had taken the easy way out. When I left high school I didn’t have a plan—I hadn’t spent much time thinking about my future. Which is fine for someone of that age. It’s perfectly acceptable to start college with “undecided” for a major. But the thought had never crossed my mind. Instead, I pursued one of the career paths that I thought would be acceptable to my parents. I didn’t have the grades or the patience for a STEM major, so I studied Business instead.

But that was never my interest or who I was. It wasn’t what I was meant to do. I wasn’t a marketing analyst like I had thought. I wasn’t a salesman like my employer had told me. I wasn’t even a customer service representative even though I was good at it. I’m a writer and a storyteller. A creative and an artist. I was meant to craft sentences and build worlds. I was meant to wordplay. That is what I am and that is who I will be. I’ve learned a lot since I dedicated myself to this blog in 2020. It’s been a long journey with many twists and turns. Up until last year I was learning on the job, getting better incrementally but not getting good enough or progressing fast enough. That much changed when I found a writing community. I started to receive the feedback that I needed to hear in order for me to level up my ability. The year 2023 was a blessing, and I’m looking forward to seeing what 2024 can do for me.

So as the calendar crosses over, what am I hoping to accomplish? What am I expecting from the new year? As I said, I don’t do New Year’s resolutions. But I will set expectations. I expect to continue to improve as a writer and a storyteller each and every day. I expect to be able to write free of hindrance—no longer will I question whether or not I’m good enough. I expect my words to flow easier than they did before. I expect my story to be more coherent. I expect to continue to foster relationships with other aspiring authors. I expect to continue to learn from both the good and bad in life. I expect to become a better person this year than I was last year. But most of all, I expect abundance, growth, and blessings. Something good will come of your life if you only continue to work.