Take a breath

If I might quote the immortal words of Baymax in Disney’s Big Hero 6, “I am not fast.” To be clear, I am not saying that I am incapable of bursts of speed or consistency, but by nature, I like to take my time.

This has been made especially clear to me as I have been spending the summer with my girlfriend and her family. They are not slow. I don’t mean this in terms of just getting things done, a walk with my girlfriend ended up being less leisurely and more of a workout as our pace took us past people out for a jog. It is not that anyone is hurrying me or trying to get me to speed up, it is just that I have realized that I place much less value on getting things done quickly than either her family or maybe even the population as a whole.

So, let me get to the point, I don’t take much hurry with anything in my life. This isn’t by accident, there have certainly been plenty of points in my life of where I hurry from task to task to be the best worker bee I can, but that just doesn’t contribute to my current understanding of life.

American capitalism and the Protestant work ethic encourage work without complaint as not only a prime virtue but also the only way to avoid ruin and hell. Marx wrote about laborers estrangement from there work, I feel this obsession on work is the average human being estranged from something even more fundamental to our existence, time.

The modern American existence is often criticized at the ends, vapid values, the mindless pursuit of things, etc. but we don’t consider the problems in how it is achieved. I don’t think the way to solve these problems is to criticize the results, it is to change the process that brings this situation about.

It feels wherever I look in the world there are products, services, or ideas on how to be more productive. Because work and a job is assumed to be the only true way to happiness anything that can help get more work done is Good and anything that does not aid in the completion of tasks is Bad. There is nothing inherently wrong with this, work is very important to, well, everything. But is work it’s own inherent value?

Let me differentiate here between work of passion, and work of survival. For the lucky people that truly love their job so much they don’t want to do anything else, cool, keep being productive, but you probably shouldn’t be reading this. Because I don’t think you exist.

That isn’t to say that no one likes their job, I like to imagine we can all reach our dream job, but I don’t think anyone would like to do just one thing because that would be exceptionally boring. No matter how much someone enjoys their work, their is something else they also want to be doing more of.

The best reason to do work during leisure time is to either get more leisure down the road or improve the later leisure time. Most productivity that does not fall into the bounds of normal work could, as Mark Twain would put, can be put off til tomorrow. Maybe it’s bringing home extra work that doesn’t need to be done yet or checking your work email during an enjoyable event of any degree (from a dance recital to some simple TV time alone) but it is all just extra labor to maximize one’s perceived value within a capitalist society. It does not add value to life or experience, it just makes one a better producer/consumer for the market

But that is the affects of productivity worship just on how much time one might have. The problem goes deeper, and actually makes whatever time one is able to allot (whether willingly for my previously mentioned delayed gratification of compulsory from a demanding boss) worse.

If you are me, right now you want to watch the new season of Master of None, if you are my girlfriend you want to read more, or if you are my dad and want to coach softball, but you don’t want to have just one pursuit of work. Everyone has multiple desires, and the task of balancing everything is one of the oldest that mankind faces; because there are only so many hours in the day and most is taken by attaining necessities to satisfy the base of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, the rest is of precious value and we try to get as much out of it as we can by the means allowed to us by our culture: consumption.

 

I just mentioned Master of None and how I haven’t finished it and some are probably surprised I haven’t watched it all yet. I am an avid binge watcher, and finished the first season in just over a day. But I’m taking this slow.

Hurrying through anything enjoyable, entertainment, food, or especially quality time with loved ones will only make the experience worse. In all fairness, I am often just as bad about this as anyone else.

As an avid podcast fanatic I have previously turned the speed of podcasts up to 2x normal so I could hear twice as much in the same amount of time. But I realized that didn’t make the experience any better. As for time with people I care about, hurrying through activities would seem to defeat the purpose of having it at all. So, I take things slow.

Of course, it is good to explore new interests, and we cannot always dedicate large amounts of time to things. It also goes without saying that sometimes haste is a good thing. But the relentless pursuit of “more,” whether it is more possessions or more complete activities is dramatically overvalued

We need to stop thinking of using time with no particular purpose as “wasting time” and start thinking of it as relishing life and living in the moment. Sure, I could eat faster and then be able to read more books, but then I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the taste of things I enjoy. Because there is a hurry, both activities are lessened and my life is worse for it.

In that example, not only am I using an unhealthy ideology focused on things that don’t really matter, I did not allow myself to fully enjoy my time with the things that do. So, let us all commit to enjoying things more. Relaxation and free time are not signs of laziness, they are important to our health and well-being as well as our ability to live, experience and exist to our fullest extent as humans.

When we read, don’t skim the book or even just read it, absorb it. When listening to music don’t drift, analyze. When relaxing, don’t check your email, just find your inner peace. Use the limited time allowed by the clock not to accomplish the most activities or check the most boxes as complete, but to find the most joy and fulfillment. If you enjoy walking fast, as my girlfriend does, great. But if you’d rather just stroll by the river and look at the trees, do that too. Because the rest of the world can spare a few more minutes of your activity to really enjoy things.

He for she for me

What do we value in masculinity, and, more importantly, why do we traditionally hold it as being of such great value? I think it is largely evolutionary benefits that have led us to prioritizing strength, hyper-independence, and the ability to provide specifically in the male gender. If we go back to Unk the caveman, the man who was those things was more likely to survive to pass on his genes and provide for the people who depend on him as they either mature (in the case of his children) or care for the products of their mutual genes (in the case of the female partner).

I do not mean this as any sort of encouragement it was just a largely practical division of labor. An ability to suppress emotions in the pursuit of short term practical goals made sense for the member of the species that was out hunting a large, dangerous animal while attentiveness and nurturing were more sensible characteristics to the one left with child-rearing.

While all parties share largely similar brain chemistry and functions making the spectrums of emotion available, encouraging certain behaviors just yielded early survival and therefore reproductive values. The thing is, evolution (whether biological or social) is a slow thing, and even relatively progressive societies still largely hold to these patriarchal systems. This isn’t universally a bad thing.

I grew up with a mother who staid at home with the five kids of her own choice (she did have a college degree) and a father who was the exclusive breadwinner for most of my life. Both my mother and my father are strong people who made this decision of traditional gender rolls mutually and are (to the best of my knowledge) very happy with the lives they lead.

There’s actually quite a trend of women in my family who want to be housewives and teachers. No one should force a person into a traditional gender role, I’m just saying that we also shouldn’t look down on people who do choose to pursue an option that would conform to norms. But we have come a long way since man hunted mastodons and we need to start addressing the long term necessities of humanity. I believe feminism is a large part of the solution.

It is of course worth noting that I am writing this as a man. At the risk of mansplaining, feminism does have a focus on female empowerment; however, by empowering both women and the very concept of femininity (or else, blurring the boundaries between the genders) is also a good thing for men because it makes traits that would traditionally shame or emasculate men acceptable and/or empowering. This rising tide raises all boats.

Part of the reason I wanted to write about this is my coming to terms with the fact that a lot of my demons are traditionally associated with haunting women. Specifically, I am thinking about mental illness. While the Mayo clinic reports the big one, depression, is significantly more common in women than men, the link is not that simple. The World Health Organization found that women are more likely to report mental health issues meaning there is a disparity in cases known which hampers both research in the field as well as the health of those not reporting.

What I am arguing today is that this is because of the negative effects behind holding to traditional masculinity. Asking for help is considered feminine, and femininity is associated with weakness. Knowing when assistance is required is no vice, it is a great virtue. So perhaps it is not bad to associate requesting assistance with the fairer sex, but one of the great goals of feminism (in my understanding) is to remove the association of women with meekness. So even if asking for help were to be a feminine quality (which it neither is, nor should be), there is no problem with a man admitting a part of his feminine nature for his greater well being and health, and the health of society. Right now, masculinity is quite literally killing a lot of men.

The last sentence is based on my core argument that pure masculinity is outdated and bad for both men and women. One of the stark differences where this is made apparent is in suicide rates. Like I said, women are more likely to report mental health issues, a common symptom of which is suicidal thoughts. So, reports from Forbes suggest the same research problem is present with suicidal thoughts as with depression, but it looks like women do suffer suicidal thoughts more often. On the flip side, Forbes also reported men are dramatically more likely to successfully kill themselves in almost every culture around the world.

Significantly, this isn’t reported suicide, which would leave room for the same error from self-reporting, but actual deaths that leave no doubt about whether or not this symptom of mental health was present. This isn’t some minor difference of a couple percentage points. According to Americans for Suicide Prevention, a non-profit that sponsors scientific studies about suicide, men are three and a half times more likely to commit suicide than women, with similar numbers coming from the UK in a report from the Guardian.

This makes sense because most successful suicides are done with firearms, and (like it or not) studies show that the presence of guns can increase the likelihood of violence. Think about it, it is an immediate, dramatic, and very effective way to end life, and Pew Research shows than men are more likely to own or have access to firearms. This is another essential part of masculinity.

If a willingness to ask for help is essentially feminine, willingness for violence is essentially masculine. Men are the ones who start wars, fight them, and kill each other. Certainly women kill, but it is no great secret that men commit violent crimes at a higher rate. Boys will be boys, and masculinity dictates that boys will be violent. Still, masculinity is privileged above femininity as “stronger” and “better” meaning that any man who would go through any act of femininity to get needed help has declared himself less of a man and therefore worse.

Men need to learn from women. I believe it is our duty to support the empowerment of our sisters not only for their sake, but also for our own. Or else we choose our own poison and live worse in our own pride.

Moving up

If it isn’t obvious already, I really, really like Lin Manuel-Miranda’s musical Hamilton. I’m not the only one by a long shot, but I feel I am drawing more inspiration from the Treasury Secretary by the day. In particular, I really like The Hamilton Mixtape’s “Wrote My Way Out” by Nas, Dave East, and Lin. I’m certainly coming from a significantly better situation that a bastard orphan son of a whore and a Scotsman, but I feel the burn of ambition in me every day.

In the Midwest it can be easy to fall in line. Not in an obedience sense, the Libertarian streak will prevent that, but just to fall in the rut of day to daily life. There’s nothing wrong with that life. Many generations and even more people of my family have done that very happily.

My parents are wonderful role models, and I think they are really happy with the life they made for themselves, but I would go absolutely insane under the same circumstances. The only time the family travels is for sports. Once again, they love that, and that’s awesome for them. But there’s a lot of world out there, and I can’t see all of it from the bleachers.

There’s a reason you can’t find a town in South Dakota where we know no one. If you come to the heart of our family, Whitewood, then everyone knows us, it’s hard not to. If I wanted to, I could follow in my dad’s footsteps, go to BHSU for a Business degree, and eventually take over my grandpa’s company, A-1 Construction, Inc. That’s a good life to live. I don’t want it.

Why do I work hard? My generation is more competitive than ever before. We are more likely to take unpaid internships, and we have a lot of serious economic issues in our future. If I want to get further than my parents, I have to work harder.

My career goal is to be a foreign service officer with the State Department. Basically I want to serve my country and travel at the same time. I speak conversational Spanish, and that is obviously a valuable language  right now, but it isn’t as strong of a higher point for me. Hamilton read politics and spoke French, I read politics and learn Russian. I started learning the tongue before we started cozying up with Putin and installed his declared friend as our Secretary of State, but it’s a critical language. And with two years experience, I can get sent to a Russian speaking country for free while also getting an in with my dream job.

Regardless of whether or not that works out, I’ve always wanted to join the Peace Corps, and they can send me to the Ukraine. It might be a warzone by that point, but whatever. I’ll get there. That will be a huge step toward my larger plans. Here’s the thing, none of those are easily obtained. Even if learning Russian was easy, all of those jobs are competitive to get into and even harder to climb the ladder. So I’ll keep on working. And eventually, I’ll write my way out of here.

Realistic escapism

For as long as I can remember, I have been drawn to escapist expressions. At the risk of sounding like a hipster, I have always loved fantasy, comics, sci-fi, video games, anything that lets me escape to somewhere more fantastical than the world I live in. So, in the stressful media world of Trump’s America, I must ask myself why I can’t seem to lose myself in the worlds I love so much.

My Steam library is packed to the gills, I have a significant reading list on my Kindle, and there is a ridiculous amount of good content on HBO, Netflix, and Amazon. So much, in fact, that I needed to get an app to sort through it. There’s a really great app that aggregates movie and TV choices called Mighty, they describe themselves as Tinder for streaming. I made sure to input a lot of my favorite things so most of the recommendations are off the charts good. Things I wanted to see I didn’t know were available to me, and things I really like were appearing with my having no prior knowledge of their existence. Here’s the thing, none of them are the sort of escapist show I have been previously drawn to, Westworld, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Stranger Things, and any number of other shows I have enjoyed throughout the years. I have watched almost exclusively documentaries.

At the beginning of the semester, I once again read Book X of The Republic for my Introduction to Literary Criticism class which gives a blistering attack on the nature of art and literature, the harshest criticism possible, for art as a whole.. I don’t agree with it by and large, but Socrates largely argues that reality is hard to perceive so having multiple lenses to distort a vision of the world can make it exponentially more difficult to see the truth. In a world of alternative facts, I am turning to the entertainment with the fewest lenses to find my joy.

Want to know what I just watched? A documentary about government surveillance. That’s not as light as In Search of General Tso, but it shows some truth. Of course everything has its own flaws and distortions applied by its makers, that goes without saying. That’s kind of the point of Socrates argument in The Republic. That doesn’t matter.

It is impossible to be a proper citizen of an Advanced Liberal Democracy without exposing oneself to the news. That is quite simply essential to functioning in the world, but frankly, it really sucks in the last few years. Real and legitimate news is under assault, and those attacking it won’t even allow us the courtesy of marking it as such. Of course right leaning sights were more problematic in the election, but its not lack of center right news available to them from reliable sources, look at The Economist, Forbes, or The Wall Street JournalThey all have political angles that do not align with me, but they have reliable records. They made their names on reliability, not on clicks.

So I turn to documentaries. True, reliable, and entertaining. Even the darkest ones are infinitely better than what I get in the New York Times everyday. Top notch reporting, but it makes me feel like I’m going to have a nervous breakdown because the truth is so much stranger than fiction with the Whitehouse acting as a reality TV show. It’s just not the strangeness I like.

Beginnings of ends

Among the many blessings I am gifted to have in my life, I feel most grateful to have so many of my grandparents still alive. Of course, I can count every person in my relations as a gift, but with time being the great slayer of all people, it is a unique blessing to have so many of my predecessors still breathing, little loan within easy driving distance.

Within a four block radius of my childhood home there are four generations of my family. Expand that to a half hour radius and there is suddenly almost a hundred people I share blood with, including 4 grandparents, and 4 great-grandparents. Before early Saturday morning, it was 5 great-grandparents. My great-grandfather John Zwingelberg was 85 when he passed away, but he led a good and full life.

Though I know some stories of his childhood, time in the Korean War, and the rest of his life, but I don’t feel I can properly explain who he was. He was a very special person to all of us, and a remarkable person in any life that was graced enough to have him enter. So I’d just like to share a few stories where I was blessed enough to be featured alongside the old goat.

The first one I don’t remember, but it’s a story my mother told me that warms my heart to hear. Anyone who has met me knows that I really, really like ice cream. I wasn’t employed five years at Dairy Queen for laughs. A teacher once told me that it is a stereotype of Lutherans to share food, and Grandpa Z was a Lutheran if ever there was one. When i was little, I would share ice cream cones and Dilly Bars with my mom. I was small, but I’ve always had a good appetite so I would often eat the lion’s share. And then one time my grandfather thought it was ridiculous tbat a three-year-old of my size would be sharing ice cream and bought me my own. I don’t even remember that, but it is just such a typical thing of my grandpa, a slightly ridiculous claim resolved with generous amounts of food.

Come to think of it, a lot of my memories concerning him are related to food. I could almost have a seperate blog dedicated to memories of breaking bread with my family. But another great memory I have with him was the first time I saw a PG-13 movie in a theater. My parents were quite strict with me about what I was allowed to watch growing up. The only PG-13 movies I could watch before I was 13 were the Star Wars and Indiana Jones franchises. Except the time great-grandpa took me to see Quantum of Solace. To this day I love the Bond franchise, and would gladly argue that Daniel Craig is one of the best. There’s so much about what I like in movies in there. The  glamour, the traditions, the music, the popcorn. Okay, I really do associate family with food, but I don’t see that as all that bad of a thing.

The last story I want to tell was something that happened completely out of the blue. As a child, I rally liked rocks and dinosaurs. Okay, I still really like rocks and dinosaurs, but at the time I saw myself as being a paleontologist. So, one random summer day he showed up and took me for my first visit to the School of Mines geology museum. My grandpa was certainly a very intelligent man, but I know he’s not the type to spend a day looking at mineral samples. He did that just to make his great-grandson, one of so many descendants happy for a day. Sure, geology didn’t pan out for me, but that is such a meaningful gesture.

In the Zwingelberg clan, we essentially have a family reunion every Sunday. Since so many of us still live in and around Whitewood, we go to church, go to grandma and grandpa’s house, and then Taco John’s. Every week for as long as I can remember. In my age cohort we have jokes about grandpa coming to yell at us to quiet down upstairs. Partially because we usually warranted being yelled at to quiet down.

We all like to make loving jests at it, but he was the kind of person that was born to be a lovably-grumpy old man. Even when he’d put on a show about being grumpy, or worse, making us choke down lutafisk everyone always knew he would do absolutely anything for any of us. Well, except acknowledge that he wasn’t of pure German heritage. He had to draw his line somewhere.

Though I am blessed with a large family, this is the second time I have lost a great-grandfather in a year and a half. It’s just a reminder that I will have a lot of people lost through my life. For now, I am more than satisfied to enjoy the love of the wonderful people in my life. Sure, we have our problems, but I couldn’t have been born into a better set of families.

Consumer cannibalism

I am a strong believer in the merits of technology. When I was a little kid, my mom was (and is) staunchly against computers, mostly on principle. And by principle I mean a deathly fear of change. One might think such circumstances would produce a technophobe. In my case, that is not true.

Though our home lacked a computer, I couldn’t be insulated from computers, and that only had limited exposure only made me more interested. Maybe that’s part of the reason for my time spent as a computer engineering student, and it is certainly responsible for my obsession with gadgets. So if it isn’t obvious, I’m a big proponent of technology for education and benefiting society in a myriad of other ways. Today, something happened that dampened my optimism.

Earlier this year, I bought my youngest sister Stella a tablet. Nothing fancy, just a cheap little Lenovo. In my mind, this was a fun present that would open up educational stuff to her with some occasional games for long car rides. That worst case scenario would render her a gamer with a better understanding of the basics of technology than I did at her age. If only.

With Christmas break rolling around, I’ve been spending a lot of time with Stella, and it is great. At school I really miss getting to be a hero for breathing and playing the Mr. Scrooge game with her. While I spent a good portion of last Christmas break and the summer like this, that isn’t what she wants anymore. She is devoted to YouTube Kids.

I’m not judging watching YouTube, I think there’s some really good content on there and frankly can’t stand the majority of current “family” shows. Pair that with a fostering of DIY ethics for a lot of creators, YouTube’s something I don’t have any inherent qualms with. Then I saw what she was watching, and I felt kind of gross.

This is all content curated for Stella’s age group, so nothing that even registers PG, The gross part is that Stella is enchanted by ads. I understand that to have free content, some adds are necessary, that’s fine. But she will watch hours and hours of videos of toy unboxings and channels that just talk about how cool the new Frozen grab bags are so cool. The voices are pandering, and I really had trouble believing that this many adults would be so enchanted with these products.

So, it was time to dig. It is important to note that the YouTube Kids app doesn’t allow easy access to description or comment sections, so I had to go and find some of these videos in my Chrome browser. Upon the slightest scrutiny it turned out that, almost without exception, they were made by people being paid to pretend they are really, really into Shopkins, just like every kid should be. The internet has made finding ads a lot more confusing. Sure, some stick out and a lot go unnoticed due to the popularity of ad-blocking software. What if the content that drives internet traffic is, to some degree, an ad?

Paid content in mainstream media is nothing new, but there have always been federal regulations that require disclosure that the content is being paid for. So if you read a review someone was paid to write for a product on Amazon, they are required to disclose any financial gains, including a free product, in the words. Videos don’t work the same.

On YouTube, there only has to be a disclosure in the description. No one, child content creator or otherwise, makes a point to mention this in a video, so its always in the description. Personally, I already think this is kind of deceptive for adults. Kids? That’s a whole other ball game.

As previously mentioned, it’s hard to get to that description through the app to begin with. Even if a kid figures out, it probably wouldn’t make a difference. Stella is a smart kid. Really smart. Still, like most 5-year-old people, she can’t read. Assuming that the population of her age group is on the same or lower levels, getting to the description doesn’t make a difference, they can’t read it. This is unfair on multiple levels.

For those who don’t know, I listen to podcasts semi-obsessively and one of my favorites is “Stuff You Should Know.” Recently, Josh and Chuck ran through some information about advertising to kids, and that is some really, really gross stuff.

Until the Reagan administration, advertising to kids was heavily regulated, but then laissez-faire took over, and the next thing you know there are full length shows that are basically ads. Adults can differentiate, but children can’t. No, literally. Studies show that until around the age of 12 the human mind can literally not differentiate between the fun toons they were just enjoying with some Cap’n Crunch and the products people want to shove down their throats. Their mouths are wide open to these early stages of consumerism.

Most of the videos Stella watches are for licensed products, Disney Princesses and Trolls in particular. They found a devious way to sell a lot of these, grab bags. I won’t pretend I don’t understand part of the fun of collecting, I had my own obsessions with Pokemon and Yu Gi Oh cards, but I think that’s different.

Maybe it’s my old man deep down already getting angsty about the kids threatening to step on my lawn, but this seems more dubious. Those cards were part of a game and encouraged trading and social behaviors. That’s why I still like TCGs. These have no purpose beyond growing a horde, and Stella knows so much about them. When I opened a Zapdos card, I knew it was special because I knew that was a cool character that was hard to find. Thanks to her videos, Stella knows specifics of rarity and and class of these little figures. And because there is no way to know what is in the bag ahead of time. So she always wants more.

Here is where I will differentiate consumerism as a problem. Full disclosure, it’s a drug I still struggle with, but this seems like purchasing for the sake of purchasing. I had a lot of cards, but they were for a game. I had books, but I read them. I had movies, but I watched them. Now, the toys go unplayed with, collectible heirlooms for kids. Many would argue that they make them happy, so who cares. I understand that, but that is going somewhere really scary.

It wasn’t until the beginning of the summer I really started to rage against the machine and reduce my possessions, and I realize now that it was probably because I was groomed by Pokemon cards, even though I really do hold to the belief that it was more innocent and valuable. This is really the same model, but much, much more potent. When I was advertised to, I didn’t realize it, but I hadn’t been trained to seek it out. Maybe I’m just worried about the kids of today, but I want it to be clear that I do not blame them, they don’t know it’s happening.

I understand that we live in a mostly capitalist society, and so some of these issues are unavoidable. But every segment of every industry seem to be collaborating to make the next generation wonderful at buying crap they don’t need or necessarily want until they see a very enthusiastic description online. It’s the same as its always been, just a lot worse. It’s taking advantage of people to make a profit. That’s not okay.

What’s worse? I have no idea how to fix this mess. We can try to teach kids about how to identify ads, but who knows how effective that would be? Even if it worked, that’s still consumerism, just a bit smarter consumerism. It doesn’t get to the central issue of this sociological tumor. And it makes me really sad. This is why I’m liberal. I’m not nearly as worried about Big Brother watching me as I am society selling its soul for a few trinkets.

Post traumatic love

It’s hard to deal with mental problems. It’s harder to learn to live in a way that I can heal. Hardest of all is seeing how it affects the people I love.

There is more than one way in which I can feel guilty for this, I think the best people who can best exemplify this are my parents and my girlfriend.

As I’ve previously written, I’ve become increasingly independent recently but that’s not our of nowhere. I’ve always been painfully aware that I am the oldest child of 5. My parents never did anything to pressure or shame me in any way, but was always reminded that I had to set a strong example for my siblings.

No one ever told me I was at risk of being actively shamed, and like most young men I wanted nothing more than to make my dad proud, but I’ve had to find a somewhat unconventional way about it.

My dad is the kind of man America has long taken pride in. As a hard-working man in the construction industry, my personality as an anxious book worm was never wonderfully compatible. Meanwhile, my mom was the apple pie dream as the impossibly supportive woman every young person deserves to have. With a strong foundation, it wouldn’t make sense to have a son that is virtually. But I’m not.

I’m human. I make mistakes. I do the best I can. But everything that happens to me negatively, no matter how large or small, feels like I’m bringing shame to the family. As long as I do my best, they don’t care, but sometimes my best doesn’t feel like enough. I know what my best can be. My best wouldn’t cause me pain, and bring my parents stress. So, even if it is not my fault, I can’t tell them anything, even if they could help. And I know that hurts the people who love me. To find out that someone you love wouldn’t let you help them is almost worse than having something wrong with you. So I want to tell the people who care about me, but I don’t want to make anyone embarrassed to be associated with me, or else cause them pain.

That leads to my girlfriend. I love her. I lover her and I am so lucky to be in a committed relationship with here. I don’t actually like calling her my girlfriend because I feel like that doesn’t adequately express the strength of my feelings for her. I’m grateful for her love and support, but I need it from her for the worst reasons.

With my history, I can’t help but have some rough moments triggered. Trusting is hard. Vulnerability is scary. It isn’t easy to open up, but I really can’t help myself with her. She’s the reason I understand the term “falling in love.” It’s scary and fast and sudden and you can’t stop it, but I really don’t want to anyway.

There is so much for me to share with her, and sometimes I can’t control when it comes out. A simple text, a touch of the hand, or just a bit of post traumatic stress can break me to tears, or go off about the horrible things that have happened to me as an explanation of why I’m so messed up and hard to love.

But she sticks around. I may not be a smart man, but I know I’m lucky to be loved. Maybe that’s what’s really so wonderful about love. Deep down, we’re all scared and a feeling little bit unworthy. Regardless, we choose to love. We choose to care for each other. That’s kind of the most amazing thing I can think of.

So maybe I have some problems, and maybe I will make things hard or sad for the people I love and who love me. But that’s why we’re all stuck on this big mud ball.