“If what you’re seeing is an open book, that’s great well I’m an open book. But I’m real shy.” -Justin Furstenfeld – Blue October

And I am. That’s who I am. I will openly tell you everything going on in my head if you want to listen. I’m happy, I’m sad, I’m moments away from deciding that I don’t think I want to be here anymore. And that’s I thought that’s plagued me since I was 11. I have always made the decision that I can’t do it because what if everything gets better and then I missed it? What a strange thought. To be so down that you think you don’t want to live anymore, only to decide you need to stay because you might miss something. Something that might be good. Some kind of hope that your dreams will come true. And only the good ones. Not that one’s that leave you up the rest of night wondering if it really was a dream or not.

I had a conversation with my oldest the other day because she was very down. She couldn’t figure out why. She just knew that she wasn’t handling life very well and it was tearing her up inside and she didn’t know how to stop it. She didn’t know why it was happening. So we talked. I won’t tell you about her, but I will tell you where I came into it. She was upset with me. Or for me. She said,” It seems like you’re angry all the time. And sad.”. I was crushed. I’ve spent a lot of time shielding others from what I feel, only to let her see me like that? A vulnerable, emotional, mess.

So we talked about it.

I haven’t dealt with a lot of my current life very well. I put on a decent show most of the time, but I’m not afraid to talk about it, if someone asks. Don’t ask, if you don’t want to listen. And talking about it helper her. Talking about it with her, helped me. Sharing your thoughts should never be a bad thing. Even with your children. Be honest with them, so they can be honest with you. Sometimes life does suck, but you deal with it. In whatever works for you and in some ways you don’t want to do. Friends. Therapists. Random acquaintances. Hell, a complete stranger,l. If they want to listen. Maybe you can listen to them too.

I’ve been listening to a podcast called, The Happiness Lab by Dr. Laurie Santos. It’s quite good. It was in that podcast where I felt less shitty about letting her inside my head a little. They also talked about communication and how as much as many of us think we don’t want to speak to strangers in public, we actually do ourselves and them a great service by striking up a conversation. I’m not suggesting you open up to complete stranger, but open up a conversation. Maybe it will lead to you opening up to each other. The release you gain by letting that shit out, is soothing.

I also just finished reading a book named, “UnFu*k Yourself” by, Gary Jon Bishop and it’s a phenomenal read. The part that has stuck a chord the most with me so far (I will read this book again. And then again, again.) is about expectations. Reading that chapter and seeing myself in there was eye opening. I have an unfair expectation of everyone around me. That they should know more than they do. That they should respond to me in kind when I do things for them. That they should think about me the same amount that I think of them. That they should understand me better. How can I expect anyone to understand me better when half the time I don’t even know if I understand me. I think I do, but I’ve left myself confused by my actions or words more times than I can remember. So how can I expect someone else to ‘always’ understand me.

ALWAYS

I’m rambling a little tight now, but I promise to close this out soon. The word, ‘always’ used to come up in arguments a lot with my ex-wife. (That was harder to write than you know. It’s even harder to say.) You use it when you really want someone to feel your apparent anguish at whatever you’re upset about. You know damn well they don’t ‘always’ do that thing, but it carries so much more weight when you accuse them of doing it, All. The. Time. So we made a decision to not use the word, ‘always’ when we were in an argument. If one of used it, the other could and would, call the other out calmly and then the user would then apologize and re-word their argument. Therapy is amazing, friends. And it worked. I could count on one hand how often we had drag out arguments after that and I’d still be to carry a bag with the leftovers.

So I’m an open book. And I can be shy. But mostly I’m afraid to look or sound wrong. And as open as my book is, I will also happily read yours and respond in whatever way suits you.

To close…”I’m an automatic steeple for depressed and lonely people. My heart while in it’s cage, is to give and not receive a thing, but the only funny thing is that I don’t know how to give myself advice.”

Cheers, friends. Be good to yourself. And to others.