You can't sleep. You can't function. You're not able to stop your racing thoughts. You're more worried and concerned about others than yourself.
Everything you do in life is for others. You believe you're being watched. You assume that the world revolves around you. You want perfection from yourself for the sake of others.
You make a mistake. You put yourself down. You keep it a secret. You're embarrassed. You believe being honest and vulnerable is for the weak. You expect that you'll be hated or shamed from others. You get paranoid.
You enjoy talking about yourself to others. You like to run the show. You talk about how great you are. Nothing else.
You choose to please everyone. You have a hard time saying no to others. You assume that you won't be liked or belonged.
You're hoping that people won't need your assistance. So you won't give them a straight forward answer. You're afraid to ignore them.
You're pressured to say yes to others. What keeps you from saying yes is expecting something in return.
Giving comes from the heart.
I need to suffer in order to learn.
I suffered from losing a sister in 2003. She was my best friend.
My uncle took her life. I hated him. I wished, prayed, and begged for him to die. (He lost his life in 2008. I still couldn't accept my sister's death at the time.)
I learned how to forgive my uncle who lost my sister's life from blogging. It took me 15 years to forgive him.
I had a hallucinatory experience from drugs in 2015. (This will be one of my future blog posts.)
I suffered from the trip. I regretted it at the time. I learned from the experience. It unleashed my fear and paranoia for the first time. Because my ego would protect me from talking about them.
I discovered more about the trip as a meaningful and powerful experience from reading Michael Pollan's book, How to Change Your Mind. The book explained how psychedelic therapy can offer a spiritual experience.
The trip was therapeutic. It defined who I was as a person.
The movie is about an angry journalist being assigned to interview Mister Rogers. And he has to write an article about him.
I remembered Mister Rogers when I was growing up. But I didn't enjoy watching him. I viewed it as a corny, cheesy show. Because I didn't understand what Mister Rogers was explaining.
Before I watched Tom Hanks play Mister Rogers in movie, A Beautiful Day in the Neighborhood, I read more about the life of Mister Rogers through Wikipedia.
He hosted the preschool TV series, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood, from 1968-2001. Mister Rogers passed away in 2003 due to a stomach cancer.
Watching the movie made me understand who Mister Rogers was as a person on and off the camera. He was still himself.
Mister Rogers showed empathy and compassion around others. His motive was to service others, especially children, through his kindness.
I like this lady. She lives an hour away from me. We matched on Facebook Dating. And we have went on three dates. She's a full time student. And she works full time too. We continue to contact each other.
My feelings are talking now.
She won't be able to have any free time to see me for this year. Respect the lady.
My younger-self would blame her. I would assume she doesn't like me. And she's not into me. Then I would second-guess on her. Like it would be her way of saying no to me. I would think something is wrong with her or me.
I've written 199 blog entries, including this post, since 2016.
I need to continue blogging. It's therapeutic for me. Blogging allows me to be honest and vulnerable.
Last blog entry, My Sex Life, might've been the most difficult to read and process. (I just deleted it. I don't need to be 100% open to you.)
I wasn't concerned and worried about posting it. Because I'm not seeking any validation and attention to others.
"In fact, many people find it extremely difficult to talk about sex; it can be a sensitive and awkward topic that raises feelings fo embarrassment, shame or inadequacy," Matty Silver writes in her article, Why is it so Difficult to Talk about Sex?
To come to think about it. I think I was trying to impress you when I released blog entry, My Sex Life.
I wrote an old blog entry, Respect the Lady, on June 27, 2017. I decide to write an updated version.
Here are ways I start communicating with a lady:
Then I would receive no word from the lady. Or she would tell me she has a boyfriend, or she's not interested.
It gets frustrating and disappointing. But it's understanding. It's good to know I tried at least. I will never know unless I try.
This event is on its 5th year. (It's 10-15 minutes away from home as well. The tickets are cheap ranging from $5-$20.) I was able to see up-and-coming players, like 17-year-old Jack Draper and 18-year-old Brandon Nakashima, and struggling players, like Stevie Johnson, seeking points to move their ranking up.
A friend told me about the 2019 Fairfield Challenger. He told me the attendance has improved every year. I watched alone almost every day except day 1. I would run into meeting at least one person per day, such as a ballboy, a linesman, an old friend, or a stranger.
Tom DeLonge used to be in the punk rock/pop band, Blink 182. (My sister introduced me to music when I was growing up. And Blink 182 was one of them.) In 2006, Tom started his own band, Angels and Airwaves.
He named the band in honor of his daughter's name, Ava.
I saw DeLonge for the first time live at Bill Graham Civic Auditorium in San Francisco, California on December 7, 2007. The event was Live 105's Not So Silent Night presenting various rock bands: Angels and Airwaves, Jimmy Eat World, Modest Mouse, Paramore, and Spoon.
Yesterday, my old friend David from elementary and high school contacted me through FaceBook Messenger. (I yelled and sweared at him in 2006. Anger took over my mind. Then I held a long-time grudge on him. My younger-self started grudges and created enemies at the time. I came at peace with David some time between 2016 and 2017.) I'll be writing a blog entry soon about my friend David.
"Angels and Airwaves are in SF tonight," he messaged me. "First live show in years I heard."
I received a letter to myself through the mail. I couldn't believe it.
I have written letters to my sister, uncle, coach, future girlfriend, and my high school self. I'm looking at the letters I have written in this blog. And I haven't written a letter to my sister yet. (I thought I did. A letter to my sister will be one of my future blog entries.)
I looked at the recipient's address on the envelope. And I saw my penmanship. I was in disbelief.
I didn't remember writing a letter to myself. And the return address was never written on the envelope. I thought I was being pranked. I was processing for about a minute. (Picture of envelope shown below.)
My friends and I decided to hit the computer lab during our free period. (It was 2nd period.) They were talking while I was playing around with Microsoft Paint on the PC. We were in our own bubble. Then the bell rang. And they looked at my computer screen for the first time.
I never liked school. I graduated high school in 2005. And I graduated from college in 2017. A huge gap of 12 years. Because I switched majors from Civil Engineering to Environmental Studies. And I never went to see a counselor. I assumed I took the correct classes. I was always a C-average student. Homework was my priority. It saved me from passing. I hated reading and writing at the time.
I can say this or that. But I wouldn't be where or who I'm at right now. I like reading, writing, and blogging.
This is my communication to you. And this blog is too.