My Work

  On Grief In the film  Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind , a man and a woman break-up and each pay for an experimental surgery by which they may erase their memories of the relationship and make it as if it never happened. In so doing, they re-live all of their memories as they are being erased. It’s a fairly accurate portrayal of grief. I don’t know that OCD exacerbates my feelings, but it feels like it. Maybe not. I had not had much experience with grief, to be honest. The pain has been unlike anything else. I used to write and ponder the nature of love. I ended up finding it not so intimidating. It’s a corollary of commitment, and I am nothing if not loyal. Finding someone  to  love is difficult, for sure. Loving the right person is the easiest thing in the world. Opening up my entire being to the person I love and being truly vulnerable took like 30 minutes. Sustaining a relationship is more difficult than loving someone and entirely different. My love doesn...

I am in a mood. Been in a mood.   I think that the scariest thing about my mental health situation is that if I ever stopped talking about it, I could hide it forever. I am phenomenal at pushing it aside. In the past year or two, I’ve stopped faking it because it does more harm than good. I feel so comfortable talking about it; I’ve normalized telling my friends that my anxiety is acting up. It’s good! But, sometime shame and embarrassment kicks in. I want to be happy, go-lucky all the time. I really do. Sometimes I feel like I’m tanking the mood by telling people I’m not doing so well. Sometimes, my problems seem so ridiculous and pathetic that I just don’t want to tell anyone or talk to anyone. Because if I talk about it, it makes it all real. So, I remember I can fake it. I really can. No one would ever know that I’m struggling. And so, all the pressure is on me to talk about it because the second I don’t; things get problematic. It has indeed been a while, blog of mine. It feel...

First, a message from our sponsor: Gay. It is Pride month, and I would like to use my platform to make it abundantly clear that I am straight. I am straighter than a ruler. As a straight man who enjoys heterosexual sex with female women, I decided that I wanted to write something in support of gay rights. I support gay rights. Ok, I have to go now. There’s thirty women in my bed with me, and I am attracted to all of them. Go Pride, even though I am straight. To be clear, I am straight. Ok, that paragraph was an old joke. Every straight guy who talks about pride always prefaces it with, “While I may not feel this way…” You can support being gay without emphasizing repeatedly that you’re not gay. Half of them look as ridiculous as the paragraph I wrote above.   Personally, I’d love to be gay. It seems   dope. Now, I do see that there are some disadvantages such as bigotry, homophobia, United States laws, but I am firmly in the camp of who gives a shit. Literally, I don’t care ab...

My last post was a thoroughly researched investigation into an American epidemic. I focus-grouped that shit. This one will not be that. I’m going to play this one loose. I don’t totally know what it will be about as of yet, but I am sure to figure it out as I go along. Also, I’ve been off my pills for half a week. It’s very ironic that I’m too stressed to call all the people I need to call to get my anti-stress pills. And irony is just what I want to talk about! I’m going to break this entry down into parts. IRONY, THE 1ST I finished school not too long ago with a classic unholy sprint to the finish line. I went on a 72 hour grind with nearly zero sleep, and my accomplishments in that span genuinely terrify me. I’m not going to bullshit anyone anymore. I am a genius. I’ve had the reputation for a long time, and I like it about as much as I hate it. In fifth grade, people were remarking about how smart I was to my face. My parents thought I was spectacular because I was reading books at...

TW: Rape and sexual assault: I’m going to discuss it very frankly. This is a topic I do not truly understand from the perspective of survivors, so I hope I do an adequate job. Unfortunately, I am an idiot, so caution is always smart. One of my most memorable regrets happened right after my first kiss. As you might have guessed based on my other blog posts, I had expected my first kiss to be a watershed moment of romantic fulfillment. I expected someone special and the beginning of a beautiful romance. In reality, my first kiss was in the middle of the night in a dorm room. I was drunk, and I had just learned her name. Evidently, she decided to kiss me, and I was like “sure.” So, I had my first kiss five feet from the bathroom where my roommates and I had been showering and pooping all year. I called it quits on the kiss soon enough and I withdrew into OCD, thought about a billion things. I walked her to the end of the building as nerves bubbled in my stomach, and she said some words an...