Fractured

I’m sure that no one will be surprised when I say there are things about who I am that I have never shared with anyone else. Nor will I ever share them. Some are embarrassing. Some are stupid and some are completely out there.

Not that I’m a closet serial killer or anything crazy. I just know that deep inside of me are things that the people I know wouldn’t accept. My friends and family are very practical people. They base their entire lives on the world around them. Cars, home, friends, jobs, bills, etc. There isn’t any room for things that don’t immediately lead to money or status.

I’ve always been a dreamer. Connected to the world only by the most tenuous of threads. Anchored here by my choices, like everyone else, but not really fitting into a convenient mold.

Black dreamers are shunned. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about.

Every time I’ve tried to mire myself in the mendacity of life it never works. I end up severely depressed and out of sorts. Usually it takes a trip to the ocean to cure this. Or cooking for a lot of people. Cooking always seems to help moderate my mental status.

But I’ve noticed one thing that has become a real problem.

Since I have to live in the world in order to support myself and my family, I have to suppress the parts of me that want to dream. Dreaming isn’t logical when the mortgage is due. I also have to block the childish part that ‘wants what it wants right now…dammit’! This part is responsible for a lot of my sex drive, but that obviously has to be controlled since I am trying to build businesses in both the profit and non-profit world.

Although, I do sometimes wonder if a blast of sexual energy could be beneficial in business meetings. People tend to gravitate towards people that are attractive. Human beings have build millions of businesses out of the same energy that drives sexuality and desire for fulfillment.

The problem with all this fracturing is I will tend to live my life in chunks separated by what I am doing at that moment. Instead of being a whole person all the time, I will be one way with business partners, one way with my family, and yet another way with friends and acquaintances. Given enough time I won’t know who the fuck I am anymore. Am I the businessman? Am I the father? Am I the husband, the son, the brother, the friend? A combination of all of them? At which point do I switch it all off and just be me? And since I brought that up, what exactly does ‘me’ mean? I have a friend who swears that the part that thinks it is ‘me’ is my ego and it’s trying to kill anything good that might happen just so it can stay alive in its status quo. He says that each time I fail at something it’s because my ego sensed its own impending death and found a way to talk me out of the change.

I wonder if this is why so many people seem two-faced or wishy-washy. They have spent so long developing different personalities for different occasions (protecting their ego) that they have completely forgotten who they truly are. They bury parts of themselves so deep that it’s impossible to remember anything of value about their inner being. No wonder so many humans are borderline schizophrenic.

The Wikipedia entry defines it this way –

Schizophrenia (pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfrɛniə/ or pronounced /ˌskɪtsəˈfriːniə/), from the Greek roots skhizein (σχίζειν, "to split") and phrēn, phren- (φρήν, φρεν-, "mind") is a psychiatric diagnosis that describes a mental disorder characterized by abnormalities in the perception or expression of reality. It most commonly manifests as auditory hallucinations, paranoid or bizarre delusions, or disorganized speech and thinking with significant social or occupational dysfunction. Onset of symptoms typically occurs in young adulthood,[1] with approximately 0.4–0.6%[2][3] of the population affected. Diagnosis is based on the patient's self-reported experiences and observed behavior.

The article goes on to say this –

The disorder is thought to mainly affect cognition, but it also usually contributes to chronic problems with behavior and emotion. People with schizophrenia are likely to have additional (comorbid) conditions, including major depression and anxiety disorders;[7] the lifetime occurrence of substance abuse is around 40%. Social problems, such as long-term unemployment, poverty and homelessness, are common. Furthermore, the average life expectancy of people with the disorder is 10 to 12 years less than those without, due to increased physical health problems and a higher suicide rate

Hell, the whole article is worth reading –

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizophrenia

So add to that stew our desire to fit in with society, sometimes at all costs. I am no different than anyone else. I want to be loved and needed. I want to feel valued and know that my contributions matter. I know that I have done things that go against who I am in order to fit in.

That’s not even news. What is fascinating is the effect that long term exposure to that kind of thinking has done to my life. It’s hard to feel like I am in charge when I’ve fractured myself to fit the situation so much.

It’s only now, at 43, that I realize I can’t live this way anymore. Falling into someone else’s orbit isn’t acceptable because I realize I will never be the writer I want to be unless I change.

That’s why I picked honesty and focus for this year. I would have failed miserably if I’d just made some stupid resolution to lose weight or something. That shit never works. But this..

This is working very well.

Peace.