Finding Pride

It's always been hard for me to feel proud of myself. I don't know where this came from, if it's a problem or a good quality, but it's always been there. Whenever I achieve something, the feeling of happiness dwindles after a few hours. I almost completely forget about it after a day or two.

It's totally possible that this is normal. That nearly everybody feels the same way after getting a good grade or award or a compliment. I just wish it wasn't like that. The immediate affect is great!  But it goes away so quickly. Work hard for an hour, feel the accomplishment for twenty seconds. It's a tough ratio. I guess it gets me back to work, though.

I've been thinking about this problem for a while. I usually come to the conclusion that this is a good quality. A great attribute for production. Finish a project, back to the old grind. Get a compliment, don't let it get to your head. Sounds like what we've heard our whole lives, no? The protestant work ethic or some bologna like that.

The problem is, the grind is tough. That's why it's called, like, a grind. Compliments do get to my head, because I try to ward them off. I can't even accept them with grace, and then I overthink my thank yous to that person.

*Note. This doesn't mean stop giving me positive feedback. I love that shit. Just don't be surprised when I act awkward.*

Consider the opposite, somebody gushing over a prize or title won from weeks ago. They find opportunities to bring it up or ask your opinions on it. Is that happiness? Is that true pride, or an obvious attempt to compensate for low self esteem? It seems like the ladder, but it's hard to tell. Those who brag and boast seem pretty happy in the moment. I really think they're struggling. I've been that person, junior-senior year of High School. I was a huge asshole. I had plenty of moments where I felt like god, though.

A lot of times when I write these things it helps me find an answer. Brings me closer at least. This post is really just a rehashing of thoughts I've had for years. It really is just another way of describing anxiety. And like I've said before, anxiety is a hell of a strong motivator. So maybe this is a good place to be.

But I don't know. I'm seriously unsatisfied with just accepting this mindset. It might be productive, sure, but there's no way productivity is the reason we're here. I'm not a protestant, dammit. I'm in my twenties playing video games and working five minutes from my house. Did you know I got a 15% raise the other day? Tuesday. I already forgot about it. Why can't I just hold on to that for another moment, letting that confidence carry into my work? Instead I'm pushed to the grindstone, pushing towards another little nugget, pushing towards something ethereal and impossible and unique. Just take the money and chill out, man. Take some time to enjoy it.

Look, I'm doing well. Really, I'm happy and occupied and driven. So please, give me compliments. I promise I can take it.

Learning From Your Parents

Growing up I was taught two philosophies. The first, from my father, could be easily bottled up into a phrase. "Do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life." He's a singer/songwriter, and if you ever get the chance to her him sing Rattlin' Bog then I recommend it. He would use this expression all the time. Nice ring to it, huh? You might have heard it before. Probably not as much as me, but I'm happy that it's been drilled into my head. Sometimes I get guided a bit more by the 'never work' portion more than the 'do what you love' bit, but we all have our perceptions.

The second philosophy, from my mother, was a little harder to pin down. She did, however, lead by example. She has had an interesting string of careers that have done a whole lot for our family and for that I will always be grateful. She brought home not only a paycheck, but those sweet sweet benefits baby. She also did not do what she loved. My mother doesn't hate her jobs, by any means, but if there was a San Junipero in real life, I doubt she would be managing a utilities warehouse in all the different decades.

If I had to bottle up her lessons, it would be "Don't end up like your father." A harsh sentence for me to even write, but it's so, so true. And don't worry, I'm posting this on facebook but definitely blocking my parents. They'll be held over from yesterday's post.

I'm very much like my parents. I see it everyday. I think we all start seeing it at some point, no? Some people fight it, maybe by moving out early or working at a smoke shop at 17 or dating a 34 year old biker who's actually gay but there's nothing wrong with that. It's a scary thing when I get angry and act exactly like my father. Even worse, when I get angry and act exactly like my mother. I've seen my parents' flaws so now it shocks me when I have them too. I do have an advantage that neither of them had at my age. I journal like a motherfuckin' mad dawg, yo. Workin out those feelings like hey now.

I want to grow up and be like both my parents. I want to be an artist and dream of a holy land where work is a constant wrestle with the intangible genius, an endless cycle of desperately wringing a cloth to capture an ounce of water. I also want to be able to get myself there. I want to be able to have a family. And if that means I drudge through the monotony of nine to five, fueled by my life's purpose waiting for me at home, then I guess that'll do too. Right now I can forge a path where both of those things are possible.

What's so amazing about my parents is that they both got me to where I am today. They are absolutely incredible parents for a young comedian. My father has been present in my life even after moving out, keeping interest in my new endeavors and projects, always pushing me up and looking out for my improvement. My mother has kept me firmly in the present, helping me time after time with important paperwork and obligations while giving me a great perspective on work ethic. Her decision to keep me around for a few years in the (new and cool) basement allows me to establish a routine and incubate as an artist (I call it the incu-basement). They're also good comedian's parents because their relationship is so fucked up. It helped me get some good material when starting out.

My parents gave me two tools for a fulfilled life. Do what you love, get the work done. Those lessons will stick with me forever. Also on the list, live with somebody before you marry them. Or don't get married. Maybe have just two kids? Live somewhere warmer? Maybe I'm just fighting against being just like my parents. Maybe it's time to do less of that.

Updates and Naive Goals

I like the feeling of writing in this blog. I can't do it every morning, because I don't feel like it every morning. When there's an obligation to put myself out in front of everybody it makes me want to do nothing at all. When it's on my terms, it becomes a little exciting motivation to actually have grammar. Today I feel like checking in.

First, updates. New computer. New, expensive computer. Two monitors. Both of them curved. It's a cool set up, one that I will be sharing once the rest of my living space is set up.

Oh yea, I have a new living space too. Not exactly the talk of the town, but Its a big step for me and will most likely be my residence for the next two years. Full disclosure, I'm in my mom's basement. There's some inherent shame in that, sure, but I don't wanna spend the whole page writing about how I don't deserve anything. That was last week's thing.

My room is set up down here now, with my kickass computer and all, so its a matter of "what now?" Luckily, I have this weird thing where I can't sleep unless my next two months have some direction. It's good for keeping on track, I guess. It's bad for sleep, good for catching up with old friends when they ask what I'm up to. That's why I do it, baby. Loading up on conversation topics for that sweet five year high school reunion.

I've told enough people right now that I'm comfortable posting about it, but I'm starting a YouTube channel. And a twitch. I always, always try to refrain from sharing stuff like this, because I hear it all the time. Everybody who gets good at melee sends a tweet out or something talking about their big plans to start a channel and start putting out content, stay tuned! And then they don't. Or they make a video that gets 60 views and they give up. It's a saturated field with meager results for the first 8-20 months, little recognition outside of internet communities and a huge time sink if you're not familiar with editing software.

Lucky me, 8-20 months is just enough time for me to piss off my mom and get kicked out of the house. I'm slightly familiar with editing software, and all I crave is little recognition from online communities. It's a golden goose I was born to chase.

The other day I was catching up with a friend from highschool and he raised a very interesting point. People our age are pretty naive. Very naive, in fact. But that naivety is important. It's the reason we put time into projects, thinking they're going to take off. It's the reason we pursue these dreams and get some sort of satisfaction, and experience, from our efforts. It's the reason we don't vote, I guess. Whatever the reason for this naivety, I'm trying now to embrace it. I have zero way of knowing how this whole endeavor will go. If it will be any good, or if each video will take forever, or if I'll just start break down crying and sell my desk on LetGo.

All I know is what I want from this, and it's a life I've been chasing since I was nine years old. Making a job out of video games. Tell me that isn't worth striving for! That it's a bad use of my 5 hours every night after work. I think it's worth it. I think it's possible. But maybe I'm just a naive little 4th grader. Either way, I'm about to learn.

Twenty-Two, Privileged, and Anxious

Lot of anxiety going on as a 22 year old.

I think that's normal. My only points of reference are podcasts, which I listen to every day, featuring comedians complaining about their twenties. Well, not really complaining. I'm not sure what it is, but there's a combination of regret and blissful nostalgia that lives inside of nearly every comedian I've listened to. Many of my idols have anxiety, a higher percentage cite having the problem around my age. I hope it's normal. It probably is.

I thought that my anxiety was caused mostly by college's difficulty, the constant struggle to achieve mixed with an ever-changing daily routine. That never quite felt like the answer to me, college wasn't that hard (Comm major waddup) and the routine only got hard at the end of each semester. I didn't need a break either, weeks spent home from school were sometimes the toughest to manage. I couldn't pinpoint it, but when can you? That's the toughest part about anxiety, its intangible, relentless, and always floating 1.05x arms length away.

 Don't get me wrong, I've mostly kept busy and enjoyed myself up through this point, but anxiety comes through every so often and its a tough bug to get rid of. There are nearly thousands of solutions out there to the problem, too. Exercising more, healthier diet, more sleep, less masturbation, yoga, meditation, more masturbation. I've been really into one of these methods, but it's definitely more of a short-term solution.

But should there be a solution? Is there something to accomplish here? Is anxiety an ailment to cure? A puzzle to solve? The more I live within the constant ebb and flow of emotional security I tend to lean more towards a big fat 'no'. I think anxiety is here to stay, for everybody. It can be managed, of course, and some people have it way worse than others. But if you're constantly looking to eliminate all traces of anxiety, depression, sad feelings, an old addiction rearing it's seductive head, or any other demons with you right now, you're going to be constantly disappointed. And that's when anxiety really takes a hold.

So I'm just here trying to manage my anxiety. I took up a hobby a few years ago that challenged me, introduced me to friends, and allowed me to develop a skill I'm proud of. But now I'm getting anxious about placings and results. This is a new flavor of anxiety, a little less spicy but it sits in my gut for longer and tastes like black coffee.

These problems can't be solved. But they can be managed, perhaps even used. John Mulaney has a great attitude about anxiety, calling it 'free cocaine' that helps you get your work done. I tend to agree. I hope that we all can find a useful way for us to manage our own personal shitty-thought expansion pack, preinstalled in every brain.


To conclude, I need to say that I'm so, so lucky to have had a childhood that led me into such mild, even productive problems. Most people less fortunate than myself find their anxiety comes from much more pressing issues, whether it's financial or stemming from a shitty family life. That's a flavor I havn't tried, and I never want to, but I understand if my post doesn't resonate with you. If that's the case, I encourage you to write about your own issues. I would love to read about them. It would be infinitely more interesting than mine.

Thanks for reading.