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September Surrender: Day Three

What I’m Letting Go

I’ve been writing something nearly every single day since November 2017. I have a document dedicated to each year. They’re simply for archival purposes, as I feel going back and reading my own writing can be a cringetastic adventure sometimes. But I decided to look back at some writing from earlier this year. I wrote a lot about how I wished one particular relationship would come to be, even as it’s looking more and more like it’s on the way out. And a lot of what I wrote just seemed so desperate and weird. I’m trying to put myself in that headspace about this particular relationship and I realized I just don’t feel that anymore. Thinking about what I didn’t have and why I didn’t have it used to make me so sad. Sad enough to where I’d have trouble functioning in my day-to-day life. And that’s just not there anymore.

I’m not really sure when it all changed, as some of these entries I read were only from a few months ago. But perhaps I’ve finally fallen through to the other side when I’m not plagued by a feeling that’s pulling me away from reality. I can’t say I’m not disappointed at the amount of time and energy I wasted, but as long as everyone lands on his or her feet, this feels like a drop in the bucket in the span of my life.

I’ll find something that doesn’t make me feel confused and angry all the time. Something real and true won’t present itself like that anyway. I’ve got to want something different for myself that doesn’t romanticize toxicity. I’m still not sure what makes me want to jump in that pool, but I’m not getting any younger and should probably stop being such a drama queen teen if I expect my next career choice to be wife and mother.

What I’ve Discovered

I’ve actually been noticing this for a very long time, but haven’t really catalogued any of it. That’s because it’s an impossible feat to do, and not entirely provable either. I’m seeing people, mostly on Twitter, begin to say the same things I’ve been chirping about for ages. People watch a video of a crazy Irish doctor who happily performs ‘gender-affirming’ mastectomies on teenagers and make note of her crazy eyes. Well I’ve been noticing people’s eyes for a million years. I know I’m not the first to do so, but I’ve been vocal about it. Weeks ago, NYC Mayor Adams spoke of the “blight” that is the outdoor dining shacks that are no longer in use. Well, surprise surprise but that’s what I’ve been calling them, along with the myriad Covid testing tents that we still somehow need. I see phrases I thought I’ve coined being repeated verbatim all over the website. The sentiments and feelings that people are experiencing, it feels like I’ve spoken about them first. The only difference is I don’t get the credit for any of it.

When someone at work has a good idea and it gets brought up, I always say whose idea it was. I don’t take credit for another person’s suggestion or work, and I don’t take the fall unless it’s for something I in fact messed up. I know people are not outright stealing my ideas here, but it’s still irritating that something I said first gets the praise and adulation when it comes from some one else’s lips. I can’t get the credit because there’s no provable way to show that I’m first. I suppose I can find satisfaction knowing what I’m saying is resonating, even when it’s just a simple thought put out into the universe. However, I still would like just some kind of acknowledgement that what I’ve said made a difference. A nice pat on the back would suffice. Or maybe I shouldn’t be so forthcoming with my ideas. Perhaps it’s time to set up OnlyMinds. It’s like OnlyFans, but for thoughts and ideas. I’ll know if you steal that idea. Copyright 2022.

What I Hope to Find

It’s a different world now. A lot can change in just a few hours. It seems to be going faster and faster as I try to figure it out. I finish up a work week and I sincerely have no idea how I got there. I can’t tell if the week went by slow or fast. And even though we report on the Labor Department’s monthly jobs report, I always feel like we just did it a few days ago. It’s a rapid bounce back and forth over what’s here and what’s not. I use to wonder ‘what’s real,’ but now that I’ve solidified for myself that it’s all real, nothing can really get me down anymore. It’s just a different time to be a person. We’re ahead of the game yet so far behind. We’re up when we want to be and dragged down when convenient. All I really hope for is to find my place in this rapidly-changing world. I feel at place in my own self, my own home, my own soul. I’ve found that oneness, and now I hope it locks in place with everyone else. I don’t mind being a loner, but I don’t want to become a recluse. There’s a lot going on out there, even if I have some resentment toward this city right now. People walk around like zombies out there. It’s a depressing time to be a Manhattanite. But it won’t be forever. I just hope that when the time comes, I can be something in the world around me. I don’t want to be left behind. I’ll evolve just as much as I need to in order to make it. I’m no different than anyone who just wants to be heard.

We’ve got a listening problem in this world right now. People say a lot, but no one really hears one another. That can change. Try a different q-tip to de-gunkify your ears. Maybe that’ll shake things up enough to actually make a difference.

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