Gift. Not.

Once upon a time, long long ago, I had this idea in my head. Not sure quite how it got there. This idea that I was God's gift to women. Really silly when I think of it now, but growing up one tends to do silly things. Without necessarily thinking they are silly.

Perhaps it was more an aspiration that anything else. A reflection of what I would have liked. Because in the real world women weren't exactly drooling over me. Quite the opposite. I was terrified of talking to them actually. Not quite outgrown that one yet. So I had no rational basis for my hypothesis. I didn't think of myself as particularly cute. Didn't have any galfriends, or anything close. Wasn't witty or confident. Even in my imaginary world where I often retreated to, I wasn't a ladies man. Go figure. An acceptance, perhaps, of reality. At least I wasn't totally delusional then.

I did think women deserved to be well treated and all that. Didn't know quite what that entailed or the dynamics required. I just knew that if I was given the chance, I would be the best guy I could be. That was then. I've had a few chances since, and haven't done too well I don't think. Chickened out a couple of times. OK. More than a couple of times. Said a tonne of wrong things. Stood people up. Stopped calling. Crushed hopes. The rap sheet is long. At some point I realized the truth. I wasn't God's gift to anyone. Wasn't this perfect guy who'd do no wrong. Hard pill to swallow.

Sunrise

The clock winds down. It should be about dawn now. Nothing. Still. Birds start to chirp. Do they do it this early. It's still dark. Do they only chirp for half an hour. Why aren't these sounds heard during the day. Too much background noise. It's not so dark anymore. There is some light. Where from though. Can't see the sun. The birds are already being drowned out. More light abounds, with that distinctive yellow, gold hue. The sun is out there somewhere. It's not visible but it has definitely risen. At the other end of the world. Those whose windows face East should be able to see it. Not me. I'll see it at sunset.

Lone ranger

I was telling this chic that I was [turning into] a loner. And she was trying to convince me otherwise. Not that I thought that it was a good thing. Quite the contrary. Especially after Virginia Tech. I was genuinely concerned after that about my tendencies to isolate myself. It was rather marked then. Apart from work and similar circumstances where I had no choice but to engage, I was generally keeping to myself. I'd been shy for the longest time but I was reminded that it may not be very healthy to avoid social contact.

I was going through a profound work/life disillusionment at the time so it was kind of understandable. I was amazed how I rationalized some of my behaviour. It hurt me that I may have hurt some, but. Difficult times those. It started happening again recently. Well, it never really went away. Always up and down. One week up, three weeks down. But not as severe or prolonged. Then somehow I started turning into a workaholic. Natural I guess when you're a loner. It's pretty easy even when you don't have a chic to take out on a date on a Saturday afternoon so you pop into the office and "finish up" on something or other. Like someone mentioned, work will always fill up available time. And all of a sudden there was a lot of work to be done. I often wondered how other people could leave the office at 5, but I guess when you have something else to do, like a coffee date with your chic, there's pretty good incentive to dash out at home time. OK. Just to balance things out, some had kids to go off to and some wedding committee meetings to attend. Not everyone was rushing off to dates I don't think, although in my world that would be the most likely reason to leave work "early", seeing as I didn't have anyone that called me daddy and declined any wedding committee memberships. Work became my new excuse for not being out there. There's this one time this chic asked me if I owned the company. I was always at work, or tired from work. I also got fatigued from always saying as much, but I wasn't too keen on telling tall tales so when she asked what I was up to at 11pm that Saturday night, I told her what I'd told her countless times before. I was at work. It isn't an excuse when it's true.

It isn't on purpose. Not even enjoyable necessarily. But it's been one of those things that just seem to happen. Those that you struggle with but can't quite get a handle on. One of those for which you've taken a break from everything to examine. One which you'll hopefully remedy going forward.

Get out, get out

Never used to do much of it. I remember the high school holidays. Often didn't go anywhere for most of the 4 weeks or so. Was probably one of the few guys who looked forward [somewhat] to school opening. Didn't mind it so much at least. Made a point of getting out of the house just before. Mostly went to the movies. Found it strangely therapeutic. Didn't matter what was showing. Just getting out greatly improved my wellbeing. Why then didn't I do more of it? Why indeed. Whatever the case, the ability to stay in for significant periods of time was built up over the years. Never used to get that Friday evening itch. Not until the stresses of the workplace checked in. That was the first time I actually craved going out dancing. The weekly dose kept me going. I realised that being indoors a lot may not be a very healthy thing to do. It is useful to step out every so often. Even for a walk around the neighbourhood. OK, so I don't do walks as such but the point is that it doesn't matter what you do. Go on a date even. As long as you get out. And after 2 weeks, it's about time I did. That old therapy of the big screen would do me some good, whether the latest Bond is still showing or not.

Seven whole days

More like 20 whole years. It's been a long time anyway. Long time coming. For the first time in a long time I've started to feel a sense of acceptance. An acceptance that other people aren't necessarily better than me [at whatever]. That mentality of going into things always thinking others can do better and that I wouldn't really do alright. Really. It has many names I guess, that mentality, but I thought of it as humility. And humility was [remains] one of my highest goals. It's one of the things I observed when I was younger and decided that I wanted to be that when I grew up. Wanted that more than being rich. Still don't care too much for that actually, not that they are mutually exclusive [so I've realised].

But I guess it was a warped sense of humility. Sure, I wouldn't laud it over anyone. Never been my style. I'm all for the underdog and the soft-spoken. When I was younger, in my interactions with my playmates, I often sought to play down my strengths. Didn't want to get any kind of focus. I couldn't intentionally flunk at school but I didn't try too hard. Being at the top wasn't an objective as it seemed to be for some. It was a side-effect. Something that just happened. A bonus. One that I'm grateful for I must add. And when it came to new tasks, I always assumed other people would do better. Really believed it. Mostly. Most of the time I ended up doing OK.

There will always be those who are better at you at something, and those who aren't as good as you. I think I've kind of known that, but internalizing and living it is another thing all together. I see people going about their lives and jobs and being comfortable with their [in]competence. Admired that kind of thing. I've quit 2 jobs in the face of [perceived] failures on my part. Convinced myself that someone else would do better. My bosses didn't agree necessarily, but it wasn't about them. I always said to myself that if I felt I wasn't good enough, I wouldn't stay on somewhere. Problem is I've had a tendency to feel this way quite often.

It will be a good thing not to always view myself [initially at least] as being worse off. To just be easy and do what I can do, how I can do. Better than some, worse than some. No matter.

The book

It'd been a while since I'd read a book that resonated with me. Really resonated. Sure, it has been a while since I read any kind of book. Never really been my kind of thing, reading. Reading books anyway. And it's not like I went out looking for this one. Kind of found it lying around. A real surprise to find that kind of book in the house. It's the kind of book I would buy [if I bought/read books] but other folks? I didn't think so. Perhaps they bought it for me. To find a couple of years down the road. Or just to understand me. Or perhaps they bought it for themselves. Nah. Unlikely.

Whatever the case. The title intrigued me so I set it aside to read later. Another good thing is the fact that it was like 200 pages. Always a good thing for me. Those thick, small print editions are too daunting. And it was an interesting read right from the get go. Just the kind of thing I needed for my rehab. I was shaking my head in agreement and laughing as I read along. No way I thought. No way this could be describing so many of my experiences. I could have been the guy in the examples given. How could someone else possibly know the kind of stuff I go through. I was familiar with most all of the CBT stuff from reading I'd done years before when I was first forced to confront and accept some of my neurotic characteristics. And like the novelty I experienced then, there was a sense of Eureka as i read. I'd never clicked on the social anxiety links when I was surfing about anxiety related stuff. I didn't know exactly what it was but I knew it was for other folks. In fact I only decided to read the book to see what it had to say about shyness. Turns out that was the least of my issues. All in all it was pretty useful. Helped me understand myself a bit more. Kind of like when I did some reading on my commitment issues. Nothing beats understanding.

Put in work

I was watching Oprah the other day. Not the kind of thing I do. Just happened to be channel flipping at the time. That's my story and I'm sticking to it. Not sure what caught my attention but there was an actress that was being interviewed. And at some point she mentioned something like "doing the work" in response to some challenge she's had. That clicked with me. I knew exactly what she was talking about. Sure, her explanation of what that meant was different to what I had in my mind but it's not the easiest thing to explain. I was reminded on Sunday that things aren't necessarily easy. Or going to be easy. My reality check for the week. That I may have to put in work.

Commitment phobia

It's what I've told most chics that I have. In response to all manner of queries as to why I was single or why I seemed reluctant to move things along. I didn't know it was an actual thing. I said it because I thought it was the truth, and it was the only way I could explain it. Otherwise I should have ended up with someone by now, surely.

As much as I knew there was something there that just wasn't right, I didn't figure that the same explanation could be used for other things. Or rather that this fear of commitment transcended romantic relationships. I've not been able to stay at one job for more than 2 years. Didn't take a car loan or mortgage when I could have. This overwhelming need for "freedom" wouldn't let me. An immense fear of obligation, and any ties that bind would haunt me. The why, as always, isn't such a mystery. But getting over it, as always, has been a battle.

As far as relationships are concerned, I've tried to protect those I've come in contact with. I've read about a seduction/rejection cycle that guys with commitment issues tend to go through, and the heartache that those who are caught up in these storms go through. So much so that the articles give tips on how to identify the perpetrators of this behaviour, so as to avoid them and the inevitable heartbreak they bring. As for me, I haven't been in denial. I've known I'm a sufferer and have therefore sought to avoid that cycle all together. As best I could anyhow. There's this one chic who I told, after the first meeting, not to fall for me. Please not to fall for me. Not out of some don juanian arrogance, but because I knew what was ahead. Man. The number of chics who don't like me out there... But better to disappoint after the first date than after 3 months and a tonne of emotional investment right? Being alone is, well, lonely, but I'm used to it. Years of practise. But perhaps there is a middle ground somewhere. Part of my therapy entails doing things differently. Not sure what the outcome would be with this regard but potential outcomes may not be as important as doing some small thing different. Taking the proverbial leap.