I Hate Being Me

This is already a misleading title for a blog, especially one like mine.  I can sum it up with the following statement:

I know who I am and that means accepting the limitations that my body puts on me.

It’s kind of been a crazy, euphoric, frustratingly annoying yet completely fulfilling few months.  Life came full circle, and I knew this would happen one day 17 years ago so I wasn’t expecting anything other than that.  However, if I can be completely honest, the route that was mapped out to get me here safely wasn’t exactly the one I imagined myself going down, again. But then again, that’s part of being me…expecting the unexpected, however ridiculous and crazy it seems, while being prepared to deal with the unpleasantness.

It’s kind of like going to the beach for the weekend, but thinking it might snow, sleet hail, blow up and/or have a major catastrophic event occur for 8 minutes one day. That’s how much control I have over HOW my life happens.

I also have done everything in my power the last next decade to not let it become  mundane including dating people who are not right for me, self sabotage, purposely being misunderstood, never settling, and also running from the truth.

I talk a lot to convince myself it’s going to work out.  (Insert positive affirmation here) If I don’t want to be somewhere, don’t blink cause I’m gone.  But I can’t run from myself anymore.  It’s tiring, it’s exhausting, and besides, the more I run the closer it gets.  It finds me at my darkest hour but IT also is there guiding me though my moments of clarity and truth.

I know who I am, and I know where I supposed to be, but that peace of mind comes with the responsibility of being able to maintain the “unconventional” way that I carry myself as my Mom and sister tell me.  I take risks, and I do not worry about money right now because I always seem to have more than enough even though I haven’t worked since early May of this year.  Charmed, maybe, but please don’t stand near me when connecting to a bluetooth device, cause I’ll cause the radio waves to bend and static will fill the air and it will drive me nuts cause I can’t change it.

They say don’t get so upset, but how do they know what it feels like to be me?  They say everything happens for a reason, but am I the only one that it happens to happen to, just when I don’t want it to happen?  Cause they say don’t let the little things get to you, but it seems like “the little things” are what’s keeping me from eternal peace and harmony.

I understand me now more than ever, and I realize  that means I’m the nice guy who starts a conversation and smiles, but I do realize that I’m also the crazy person in my car yelling profanities at my smartphone  somewhere in the middle of Alabama right when the GPS decides not to work again for the third time this week?

I hate being me sometimes, because I know that I’m making it all happen.  I guess I should take it easy on myself.


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