Thursday, February 5, 2015

Excuse Me, Where Can I Find Myself?

In just 3 days I will be turning 34.  It's not really a significant number.  You don't get any new benefits like a super special drivers license, nothing magical happens, your penis doesn't grow an extra 3 inches (unless maybe it does, I'll let you know) and it should be an all around forgettable birthday in the timeline of a human being unless they died when they were 33.  As far as I can recollect, I've never tripped out about a birthday before but dammit this was not how I envisioned myself approaching this completely random age.  If one would've asked me at 32 approaching 33 what I would've expected to find at 34 I probably would've answered, "I don't know.  Probably something really damn close to what I'm doing now.  What kind of stupid question is that?"  I would've been wrong of course and naive.  Life changes quicker than Katy Perry changes costumes at the Halftime Show and much like her changes, it isn't always pretty.

I cannot change all that has happened here recently.  There is no magical DeLorean to take me back,
Just in case you didn't
get the reference
Bill and Ted's Phone Booth is non-existent, and I'm sure if we had time travel anyway that we would quickly fuck it up.  So what's left to do?  Well, at 33 years old I can honestly say that I have no clue of who I am.  How's that for an admission?  No idea!!  I know of things that I like and that I'm into, sure, but as a conscious human being breathing air and inhabiting this planet and using resources?  Nope.  So I'm going to make 2015 and the year celebrating my 34 year residency to try to find myself.  I know that sounds so hippie dippie, blah, blah, new age, cliche bullshit but it's what I'm going to do.  I'm not even sure where to start and that's kind of why I'm writing this.  I'm hoping that my friends and readers can give me some suggestions.  I've certainly had plenty of people telling me lately that I need to and that I'm not the same person that I used to be.  So I want to find either the person that I was that a lot of people seemed to like or find the person that I am.  Perhaps they are the same or maybe they're vastly different, I don't know.  Remember, I'm lost?  

I've heard exes and friends say that they "need to find themselves" for years but I had never really
Could these be the answer?  
given it much thought.  I just agreed because I thought it sounded good.  Now I find myself in this predicament and I don't have an idea of what it is that I'm supposed to be doing.  Am I supposed to explore different religions?  Do I go to a psychiatrist and get put on mood altering drugs and anti-depressants?  Am I supposed to take a heroic dose of psilocybin magical mushrooms?  Am I supposed to walk around with a ponderous look upon my face and occasionally scratch my chin in wonderment?  I don't know.  Those all sound like plausible ideas but I'm really not sure.  My problem has always been that (and yes, I'm bragging a little here) I'm awesome at giving solid advice to others but I'm shit in my own life.  Seriously, I've never steered anyone wrong when they've asked me for advice.  I always think through their problem analytically and logically and tell them what I truly believe is best.  It's one of the aforementioned things that I know that I love to do.  But perhaps I've been too proud in the past to ask people for advice or maybe (definitely) too blind to see my own problems.  So here I am friends, I'm asking for help.  How have you dealt with personal tragedy?  How did you find yourself?  What did you do to get to your own level of accepted happiness?

Seriously I want to know because here's another admission that some people already know, but I do not love myself at all.  I kind of hate me.  I like life and seeing all the cool things going on but I just kind of wish that I was another person.  I've heard this statement repeatedly too, "You've got to love yourself".  Okay, duly noted now explain how that happens.  I guess loving yourself and finding yourself are kind of the same thing, right?  I'm not sure because I've heard both so much lately.  But what if you find yourself and you turn out to be a huge asshole?  I'm a huge fan of psychology and have casually studied it for years, which makes me really inquisitive and generally over-analyze things.  Maybe that's what I'm doing now, but anyway if you want to be a good soul you can either comment below with suggestions, or you can comment on the Facebook page, or you can message me.  I don't care, if nothing else, this can at least be a neat little social experiment where I get all kinds of useful stuff.  


  1. So so many posts with no comment or concern at all.. I really just felt obligated to do so, only to help, mind you. To quote your intemperate rant "I do not love myself at all. I kind of hate me..." seems it's unanimously ecumenical. Just kill yourself already.. please? Or at least stop the clearly unwanted, unneeded, unnecessary and entirely not entertaining "blogging." already? Signed: the Also Internet Anonymous Grumpy Cynical Thirtysomething Fat White Man Who Doesn't Give A Remote Fuck.

  2. As someone who has gone through all of the emotions that you have described in your blogs, I can tell you how I "found myself" and began to "love myself". I had "me" time. I had to get to know me. Of course I know myself better than anyone, but I never knew the "alone" me. The "single parent" me. I went to movies alone. I read alot of self help books (some helped, some sucked). I prayed a lot and spent a lot of time in church. I also spent a lot of time with my family, which I never did before because I was always busy with a significant other. I wrote A LOT. Most of it was very crazy stuff, which I destroyed and never let anyone read. It still felt great to have an out. I volunteered working with the elderly. They have so much insight and wisdom that no one takes the time to listen to. I stopped trying to date, period. The only dates I went on were "me" dates. I learned to do things alone and actually enjoy my own company. I had to love myself before I could expect someone else to love me. It was hard. But I learned to respect myself and learn what I actually DID like and dislike, not just what I have gone along with or agreed to for so long. I had not been alone in over 17 years. I always had someone. If I dated someone and we broke up, I had another one the next day. Being alone scared the crap out of me. But it was only then that I met me, and actually fell in love with me, for, well, me. Best of luck to you.

    And PS. Don't listen to the other asshole that commented above. They sound like a horrible person that obviously haven't found themselves yet. Hopefully they will too.