Weekly Roundup

Hello again, campers! Ready for your campfire tales? No? Not really?

I finished listening to the Camp Red Moon short anthology, and it took me a while to recognize the voice in the second story. Kevin T. Collins, who’s performed the audiobooks to the Sam Capra series by Jeff Abbot. Speaking of, it’s about time for another installment in that series.

Anyway, here’s what’s on my plate this week.

Reading: Wild: From Lost to Found on the Pacific Crest Trail by Cheryl Strayed. Just getting started, and I haven’t seen the movie either, but I recognize the desire to travel, isolate, and found yourself. A lot of my library seems geared towards those sentiments, even if they all haven’t been read yet. A 26-year-old, reeling from tragedy, decides to make the 1100-mile solo hike.

Listening: You Learn from the Alanis Morrissette jukebox musical Jagged Little Pill. I had this in the nineties (it’s probably still floating around my cd collection somewhere). This ensemble number is really touching, and I enjoy it a lot.

Doing: Goal setting. I’ve been using a couple of resources – Designing Your Life, Tony RobbinsSeth Godin, & Tim Ferris. Before I start making cuts to some of my projects and interests, I want to make sure I’m doing it for the right reason. So having those goals set are important.



Surviving an emotional breakdown

It’s been over two years since my engagement ended in unusual fashion. In hindsight, it seems unlikely that the relationship would have lasted, and surprisingly that it did last as long as it had. Roughly three years. Our twelve-year age difference (me being the elder) was likely to difficult to maintain.

Still, the resulting emotional disturbances I face were unexpected and traumatic. And it was only with the most tenuous strings that I was able to hold on to a semblance of life.

In the coming months I’ll write pretty openly about it, and some of the other tragedies that arose previously, including the death of my grandmother which resulted from an automobile collision, the onset of what was diagnosed as an autoimmune disease, and a period of incarceration (though I don’t necessarily view it as tragic).

The difficulty I’ve faced in writing on here has been wanting to be more open, yet still feeling the need to perpetuate the use of a facade. A social mask, pretending to be more well-adjusted, or acceptable, then perhaps I am. But I’m getting nowhere doing that.

That’s my commitment. That I’ll be open and honest on here, as I try to do in everyday life.