Birth Squeeze in Current Events

  • April 2, 2024, 4:37 p.m.
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  • Public

After my previous entry, I started to feel very bummed out. Almost depressed. I didn’t know why until yesterday when I was supposed to go to class. I feel like I heard it out loud from Marcello today, at work. Like, what is the point!? What is the point of life? He often says. This is something that concerns me. He is a family man. I worry he will become a statistic. Another man nobody suspected was suffering. Death by Suicide.

It is obvious that he is going through an existential crisis. He did everything that a man is supposed to do but he isn’t happy, just happier. He isn’t fulfilled. He has his kids to live for. What do I have? This is not a haunting question. As I said in my previous entry, I don’t know my story.

Everything changed the moment my sister announced her pregnancy. I calculated that we would be almost 50 when her child graduates. I looked at everyone else in our age group and saw a pattern. They can’t run, they can’t shit, they can barely even take a proper breath. Everybody is getting diagnosed with this, that, and the other thing.

I am where I am because of what I put in the past and my future will be whatever I put in the present. I figured that my health worked the same way, at that time. I now know how right I was. I want to have the energy to go for nature walks with my niece. To have the energy to play, always. I decided to quit smoking that year. I quit eggs, meat, and dairy a few months after that. That was somewhat unrelated but I cleaned my diet up and made my health a priority.

My mother quit smoking because she didn’t want our memories of her tainted with her smoking cigarettes. I don’t want my nieces and nephews to see me as I was at that time. I am hoping that I can be a positive role model. I want them to see at least one adult in shape who takes care of themself, properly. No T no shade to anyone else. I’m sure we’re all doing our best…

There was a small window of when my sister was to return to work and when my niece started daycare. They didn’t know what to do so I stepped up and was a fulltime nanny for her. The first day was a learning curve, to say the least. I hadn’t even changed a diaper yet. I put them all on backwards that day. When I held my niece in my arms, and rocked her to sleep for the first time, everything changed forever. Her little eyes looked up at me and suddenly my life wasn’t all about me anymore.

I don’t have kids. I don’t have anything weighing me down so I want to be the one to create generational wealth for my family. It’s a tall order for anyone. It feels even taller for me as I have specific mental issues to push through. Social anxiety ruled my life, for starters. It made all of my decisions. Going back to school was my worst nightmare but here I am. 20 years later.

If I do get into naturopathy, they won’t listen to me. I already had that painful realization. They don’t have the courage to use their own discernment. That is a skill and I know that they don’t even have it. Somebody has to tell them what to think and believe. Thou art too dumb to understand our literature. Thou must accept what we say without question. For the world will be full of sin, or disease, or misinformation [insert cult related fear here].

This realization hit me when I saw that comedian on Saturday. She is terminally ill with cancer. Cancer is the cure, her own toxic burden is the disease. She created an environment so toxic that her tissues started to die. She didn’t catch cancer. You don’t catch anything. You create it. Unless you have something structural, of course. I imagined what a conversation with her about it would look like. If you clean out the body, you won’t need cancer anymore. The most that it would do is give her someone to make fun of at her next show. Fuck that wackjob $cience heretic.

I didn’t recognize what I was feeling when I decided to skip class yesterday. What’s the point? I was feeling nihilistic. I felt like I was wasting my time. I really battled with myself up to the bitter end. I couldn’t bring myself to walk out the door. It’s going to happen again this evening. I already surrendered to it. I’m not dropping out, just so we know the score. I need to collect myself. I let my mind hurt me.

In a world where I look at coincidences as co incidences, I put on a podcast while I was doing some tasks at work. It felt relevant to my existential crisis. It was a podcast about the Bhagavad Gita. I made the mistake of thinking it was the actual Gita but 5 minutes into it, I felt like I had reason. I had some meaning to it all. He described how fulfilling it is to do things in service of God, our all-maker. It just felt right. We know where I stand on the esoteric. It’s allegorical and teaches metaphysics. To serve God, I need only serve others. He is the dreamer, we are the dream. Just need to keep the truth moving along.

If I do get into naturopathy, I will be of service to others. I want to heal but above all, I want to teach. Reason must be the legislator, it must not be legislated. The body is the cure, this shouldn’t be such a foreign concept. Poisoning ourselves with petro-pills creates disease. I feel like I have to be a spiritual guru and perform open-mind surgery so that someone can see what is right in front of them.

Gen Z is the most diseased generation of all time. They have diseases that 50 years olds are supposed to have. This speaks volumes. How much of what we call “old age” is actually “old age?” There is clearly something fundamentally wrong with our healthcare system. They keyword is fundamental. It’s built on a theory that is baseless. Their scientific method is not working. Everybody is sick. Suppressing symptoms creates all those disease states we all know and love.

At the end of the day, I don’t want to care. I don’t want to give a shit. I don’t want to want. paradoxically, wanting that is wanting. Wanting hurts. Hunger hurts. Thirst hurts. Libidos hurt. Love hurts.

The alternative is numbing myself out. Getting drunk every night. Eating whatever I feel like. Just stay home and eat breads, and desserts, and get all fat and sassy. I could just glue myself to the TV. Just accept everything that is sold to me. Work a deadend job until I die. Let life pass me by. Never question who I am. Never wonder about anything. Just be and do and think everything society expects of me. Just be an NPC. I really do want that. I do want things to be simple and easy. Why don’t I? That’s another mystery.

If I zoom out and look at myself, I can sum this up as a growing pain. I can be destructive, or productive. Or even reproductive if the money’s good. 20 bucks is 20 bucks. I’m rumbling with it all instead. Letting myself be vulnerable. I promised myself when I was very young that I would not become a drunk, or junkie, or a cheap slut like most kids with a history like mine. I didn’t realize that it meant that I would have to suffer. To suffer alone. I would have to die a thousand times and become someone new every single time.

When my sister’s sister-in-law was raped at 16 by her sisters fiance, everybody in that family wanted me to talk to her post-haste. It was weird, it was a lot of pressure. It made me uncomfortable because it made me realize that my siblings are telling my story. I told this poor child what becomes of us. I explained that she had a choice. She understood. The pain was too great for her. She got addicted to cocaine, joined a gang, and is now in prison. #Choices.

The old me always has to die. Even if it is just a little. I have to bury the man that I created to protect me. I have a whole cemetery. The mind is lazy, it does not want to create new structures. It wants to self-preserve. This is always a battle. I do this all the time. Though, not everyone does it so publicly. I need to become somebody new. Somebody who thinks differently, believes differently, acts differently, behaves differently, etc. I don’t know who that is yet. Though, I know who I want him to be.

The past isn’t happening. The future isn’t happening. The future will be whatever I put in the present. A gift to myself. Maybe Pandoras box? #Choices

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