State of The Human Address.

I want to start out by saying this: The state of this human and his brain is...meh.


At just about a third of the way through 2014, I keep finding myself asking ridiculously deep, introspective questions that have me spiralling down a very deep, very dark rabbit hole. Sort of like Alice did upon her descent into Wonderland. She and I have a lot in common in that respect...if Alice were a man, horrendously overweight, and balding. One other thing that Alice and I do have in common is that we have some pretty big fans in the "Bear" community.

These questions are pretty basic stuff that we all ask ourselves from time to time. "What the hell am I doing with myself?" "How in the Hell did I get here?" "Am I doing what I am meant to be doing?"

I have no delusions that I am in any way alone in asking these questions. We as a species have been asking these questions of ourselves for thousands of years and will continue to do so for eons more. The issue that I have been finding in dealing with these questions, is that they seem to induce a deluge of mania when I'm left alone with them for too long. A frenzy of synaptic firings that have me feeling that it is too late for me to change. Too late to go after whatever it is that would make me happier, i.e. professionally, physically, and spiritually (whatever that means).

Back in December I started my current job as a security guard at a community hospital. The hours are not pleasant, I never get enough sleep, the work is stressful, and the pay is abysmal. I haven't been happy with my work in quite sometime. The overriding theme on slow nights is "What am I doing here?" My palms start to sweat, my stomach contorts, and my brain swirls to nearly exploding. I am self aware enough to realize that this is anxiety and that everything is okay. Then I begin to remember why I am there. It is for my kids-the little girl and not much little-er boy that anchor me in a semi-responsible, mature adult head space. Me caveman. Me provide. Me bring home bacon.

Usually it is at this time in my mini manic episode that the madness begins to wane. I realize something: no matter what I do for work, no matter my personal doubts,  I am a father. I do have a purpose in life that far exceeds any other personal endeavor. Raising children in this world is a challenge that I fully accept, although I admit at times never fully appreciate. But my tiny anxiety attacks seem to quell when I see their faces in my mind. That may be the purpose behind these episodes, I wonder. The brain starts going wild with fear and balance is restored when I remember my main goal on this planet. I'm a dad. Or just "Dada", if you ask my daughter.

I have the most important occupation in the world. One that I share with millions of others and one that doesn't cut you a check at the end of the week. I just need to remember this fact BEFORE the sweaty hands, Niagara-like brow sweat, and the soon-to-be stomach ulcer nervousness.

I need another source of personal satisfaction. As I stated in the previous post, I want to create. I have been writing again almost everyday. I've been putting projects together in my head that span over several different mediums that I can hopefully share with you guys one day. Better yet, maybe we can do some of these things together. The state of this humans brain WILL be strong. Maybe not tomorrow, next week, or even this year. But it will be...someday.

Thanks for reading, I have rambled long enough. I promise to refine these a bit better as they go on, I'm still not really used to this.


I love you guys.