...That I'm Neurotic?

I was in the midst of my second peak during an intense mushroom trip. This night I had tried a new form of ingestion which was proving to be far superior to the other methods I had used. I borrowed some English technology and made some tea. Fifteen minutes later, I was seeing colors and my walls were breathing, leaving me in a pool of my own drool captivated with child-like bewilderment. By the time of this second peak, the trip had taken an intrinsic turn, and I was deep in the depths of my own brain, contemplating my life and where I fit into the universe.

Tears were pouring out of my eyes and I was distraught, as if I had become lost in the forest and had no hope of finding my way. The psychedelic substance had enabled me to see the truth about myself. I had lost my purpose, I had lost my way, and I was definitely going in the wrong direction. For the purposes of getting through the trip, I remembered the words of Wise Mitch, and I built a house. I may have even met a frog soon after.

The next day, I knew I had work to do. When you have serious revelations on drugs, you wait to explore the meaning of them, but you do not ignore them. If you do try to forget, those same issues will be waiting the next time you are in that state of mind, and they will only get meaner and uglier. In the show, Entourage, Vince and his friends take mushrooms to help make a huge career decision. The truth about drugs is that they don’t create inspiration; they only bring to the forefront what was already there. My life truly had lost its meaning. I was floating, not moving towards a goal or destination. I needed to discover what my purpose was, and what I needed to do to right the ship.

The conclusion that I made was that I needed to listen to what teachers, family, and friends had been telling me and start writing. That was over four years ago. This is the first piece I am writing for the purpose of public sharing, with the exception of Facebook notes and posts. I have a difficult time explaining why it has taken me so long to get the ball rolling. Fear, insecurity, doubt, self-loathing, and laziness have all played a part.

I was in need of moral support. At the time of my decision to listen to the people around me, I was not around Scott or any of the friends I had met at the game store Something 2 Do. It was close to nine months before they would become a part of my life again. During that nine months I moved five times, worked an average of 52 hours a week, and isolated myself from almost everyone. If I stayed completely busy, I wouldn’t have the time to start my writing endeavors. Even in life-changing inspiration, procrastination is the crown on top of my head.

One day while sitting in the motel room I was living in at the time, I was strangely compelled to give Scott a call. I had just gotten in a huge argument with a good friend. His dad had just died and his widowed mother had to sell the house they lived in and move into an apartment. He was living with me until he found somewhere else to go, and I guess the arrangements put me on edge. We started fighting over nothing, and in the blink of an eye he was gone. I regret this day because I should have been more supportive, and not let my emotions take control. He was obviously going through a terrible time, and had every reason to get upset at the first sign of negativity.

So feeling very lonely, I engaged my old gaming friends to see if anyone was interested in seeing me again. It turned out they were, and a new chapter in my life began. Within a year I was living with two of my oldest friends and was working a job where I made almost twice as much as I had at any other job. I still hadn’t written anything though. These were not the friends who had constantly encouraged me to be a writer. I felt uncomfortable presenting the idea to them.

As with an addict struggling to beat the habit, I found excuse after excuse to put things off another day, month, or year. A few weeks ago I finally put myself out there. I posted a question on Facebook, inquiring on how to create a blog. I got a good deal of responses, and it seemed as if I actually did have some support from my group of friends. Scott made it explicit that he would read my blog. This was a huge boost of confidence. It seemed like I might have gotten the push I needed to start something.

A week or so passed by, and it seemed that once again, I had talked a big game but was not going to follow through and back it up with some real action. This is all quite ridiculous I know. Writing things and showing them to people is not that big of a deal. What if I am a terrible writer and no one wants to read anything I create? That would mean I have wasted all of this time fretting, and letting my head think my way in and out of possible scenarios. Quite absurd, I know.

I believe it was on Thanksgiving that Scott suggested that we create a blog together. I don’t know if he had any inclination that it was what I needed to get started, or if he is just a greedy white man looking to squeeze all of the stories out of me and turn a profit off of them. Regardless of his reasoning, we are here writing for you people. Why are we doing it? That is a good question. I want to share some stories, I want to make some people laugh, and I want to sign a big contract so I can buy a castle with a moat filled with Crocs for my friend Bobby. I’m in the process of starting a job for Uncle Sam, and I don’t know how often I’ll get to see Scott or any of my friends. This blog will hopefully be a way to stay connected with one of my best friends, and one of the best people I am likely to ever meet. I hope I am able to also create something that people will enjoy, and maybe even help them with their own struggles and problems. If I suck at writing, at least I tried, and got the monkey off my back.

Tune in next time to read something that is far more fun, less mushy and emotional, with more Mitch Hedberg references, more sarcasm, and less sad stories. I can probably promise at least half of that.