Where’s the Worth?

Now that my family and I have completed our time in Japan, we’ve begun the next phase of our life.  We are currently in the home country of my wife, Hungary, and we’re living with her dad while she continues with her pregnancy.  Our time here is primarily for her to experience life here once again, and to verify or contradict the feelings she has had for this country since she left here some 16 years ago.  She wanted to see if her memories of this place were all justified, and that it really is where she’s wanted to be all this time, or if it was just a sense of nostalgia that clouded her mind, and that life here is way more difficult than she remembered it being.

What this means for me is that it is now my turn to re-enter the workforce after a near 4 year hiatus.  To be honest, I couldn’t be happier to do it, since I’ve been sort of champing at the bit for quite some time to get out of the house.  While I have loved having the time with my daughter these last 2+ years, I’ve discovered, in no uncertain terms, that I am not cut out to be a stay at home dad.  I maintained well enough, and my little girl seems to have grown up happy and relatively well adjusted (she is still my kid, so she’s going to be kind of weird), but I never thrived and I don’t think I ever could in a home environment.  Mentally, I’m just wired to work, and collect paychecks, and feel like I’m contributing monetarily to my household.

Of course, there is hesitation when thinking about returning to work after 4 years.  There’s the question of whether or not I’m actually ready to go back.  My readiness may not be equal to my desire, and that could lead to some pretty bad failures when I go back to work.  How much will I miss my family during the day?  That’s a big one, because I’ve known nothing but time with my daughter during all this time.  And of course, one of my biggest concerns is whether or not I’ll actually be able to find some meaningful work after having been out of the industry for 4 years.  The world of IT is ever evolving, and I’ve been out of the game for what might as well be a whole era.

Job-hunting can be a soul crushing experience.  You’re reduced to your accomplishments and how well you can state them on a piece of paper (or in a Word document as the case is nowadays) and you send out hundreds if not thousands of them, knowing that you’re going to be rejected time and time again.  You may feel as if you are a shining star in a sea of darkness, and that you should be easily picked out, and picked up, but in reality, you’re just another point of light in an otherwise packed sky, and you just have to be lucky enough to be picked by that one company that will take a chance and check you out up close.  Meanwhile, you sit there, and wait, and wonder if you did everything right to feel like you shined as bright or as interestingly as you could, but feeling as though you screwed something up royally, and they’re huddled in their little HR cubicles, looking at your resume and laughing at your inept attempt to look employable.  It’s enough to make a person lose it a little bit, and honestly, it can kill a person’s self-worth.

And that got me thinking about the last four years, and what my worth has been.  After a couple of rejection letters from a few companies in the last month and a half, I’ve begun to wonder just what I’m worth now, and what I’ve been worth the last few years that I’ve been without work.  Internally, I feel as though I’ve been a kind of paperweight to this family.  I have a function, but it could really be accomplished by anything of sufficient weight and size, and in most cases, you don’t even really need it.  There were times I honestly thought things would be better if I weren’t around, instead of being there and just taking up space.  This feeling has been even stronger lately, since my wife is now no longer working, and actually has time to be the stay at home parent to spend the time with our child. 

I’ve expressed these feelings to my wife, and some friends, and time and again, they’ve told me how awesome I am, and that things will work out, and that it’s just a matter of time.  Of course, I’ve always been the impatient type, and hearing platitudes has never done much to placate my worries.  However, it does make me examine myself (big surprised huh?) and brings up the question, how do you quantify your self worth?

Is it based on how much money you bring home?  How much time and effort you spend cleaning the house, washing the clothes, bathing the kids?  How good the food you cook tastes?  How much you can make your kid laugh?  How much you make your spouse laugh?  I’ve struggled with this question for much of my life, because when I think back on it, I can’t really say that I’ve ever felt that I’ve been worth much.  There have been moments where I’ve had little triumphs along the way that gave me a sense of joy and accomplishment, but they never had any lasting effects on my feelings of self-worth. 

These last few years have really been testing those feelings.  I don’t think I’ve ever felt quite as low as I’ve felt these last few years.  However, there’s always a need to soldier on, to take care of my responsibilities, so I put those thoughts as far out of my head as I could.  I just did what I had to, and spent my spare moments losing myself in hobbies, video games, and esoteric thoughts.  But going through the job-hunting process has put a lot of my insecurities into sharp focus, and it’s one of those times where confrontation of those feelings had to happen, or there would be negative consequences.

So how does one go about judging their self-worth?  The only thing that has had any sort of meaning for me is how happy the people around you are, and how much of an effect you had on that happiness.  From speaking to my family and friends, I’ve discovered that I’ve surprisingly had a positive influence on their lives, even without really noticing it.  My existence on this planet has helped to impact people in a positive way, and that is really the only thing that I can say, for myself, has a lasting effect on my feelings.  If I wasn’t here, than the net positive effects that I’ve been able to have on people’s lives wouldn’t be there.  It may not be anything tangible; I can’t exactly hold other people’s happiness in my hand and count it, but when I know that people miss me, and want to be around me, that’s as good a way as any to know that you’re loved and wanted, and it tells you something about your self-worth. 

Does this mean that I’ll be able to go forward without feeling any insecurities about myself again?  Probably not, and I’ll backslide into depression again, because that’s always been my cycle.  But it’s important to keep the good things in mind, or it ends up being a fight that you’re just beating yourself in.  I’ll likely question myself over and over again, and feel worse until I finally find work and feel like I’m legitimately contributing again (even if I’ve been contributing all this time).  Even then, the job would just be a bandage to patch up one tiny cut in my admittedly beat up psyche, but at least it would be one less thing on my mind.  Until then, I have to keep doing what I can to do good by others, and maybe, hopefully, things will work out (even though I still really hate that phrase). 

Crushed by Success

By now, everyone has heard about the death of Robin Williams.  They’ve likely also heard about the details of his death, whereby he committed suicide by hanging himself, after what appears to be a failed attempt by cutting his wrists.  There has not yet been a report stating whether or not he had drugs or alcohol in his system, but he was known to have a substance abuse problem.  However, even if those weren’t the final catalyst to his actions, it was also reported that he had been suffering severe depression in recent months because he felt he couldn’t provide for his family.

I’m sure like many people, when I heard those words, I scratched my head initially.  How could an amazing talent like Robin Williams, a box office draw who always seemed to be working, ever have to worry about money?  It was even stranger when I found out that he had also already set up a trust fund for his kids that would have them set for the rest of their lives.  It was originally very hard to imagine what his worries could be that he would feel driven to kill himself.

Then it hit me.  Or at least, a theory hit me.  I can’t presume to know what was going on inside his head when he made the decision to end his life.  However, there was an article on Cracked.com recently that helped to shed some light on the situation.  You can find it here.  It’s a solid piece on why people who you might think are very funny and generally the life of the party, and always seem to have a smile on their face, would ever decide to end their own life.  But we see this type of thing happen to all types of celebrities, not just comedians, and also many of them are successful.  You can also find examples of this in your day to day life.  I think we’ve all heard of someone who, for no explicable reason, decided to commit suicide.  So it got me to thinking…

A lot of people who have been considered incredibly talented and successful, yet still killed themselves, always seemed to be uncomfortable being described as “geniuses”, “amazing”, “phenomenal”, or any number of superlatives.  They would usually laugh it off, or make some self-deprecating remark about how they’re just having fun doing what they love, and they don’t see anything special about themselves.  A lot of people would see that as being humble.  However, to anyone who has ever suffered from depression, there’s another reason for trying to deflect anything good being said about them.

Quite simply, they don’t, or rather can’t, see themselves that way.  From personal experience, I can tell you that when you’re locked in the throes of depression, you can see nothing good about yourself.  Every positive thing that someone says is either taken as not being sincere, or as added pressure to live up to a standard that, to your own mind, you can’t possibly live up to.  In fact, that pressure can feel so strong, that weight so heavy, that no matter how great the success you’ve had before, you can only see failure for yourself in the future, because you feel as though you are worthless and incapable of anything good.

That’s why a man like Robin Williams, an Academy Award winner, a millionaire many times over, beloved actor of millions, could ever feel like he wouldn’t be able to take care of his family, nevermind that they were already taken care of.  The depression had gotten so deep into him, that he could only see a bleak future, where he would be forced to toil away at jobs that would bring no satisfaction, no joy to anyone.  I believe he saw them purely as cash grabs, with no opportunity for art or passion.  It was known that he was not a fan of doing sequels, because he believed that there should be new stories to tell, not rehashing of stale plots, even if those movies would bring joy to many.  I doubt he ever thought sequels had any redeeming qualities, and he didn’t want to cheapen his integrity by making films that he felt weren’t good enough for anyone.  It would seem as though he had a very high level of perfectionalism that could have contributed greatly to his self-loathing.

I know for myself, hearing things like “You’re amazing”, or “You’re wonderful”, or really anything that could be considered a compliment just feels like added pressure to live up to those expectations.  I have always tried to be a good person, but I don’t know if I could ever truly be “amazing”.  I would rather hear a simple “Thank you for your efforts” and move on from there, because there’s no implication of expectation that I have to live up to anything special.  I’m perfectly fine with doing things as they are needed, and trying my best, without such accolades.  I know this isn’t true of everyone, but then again, not everyone suffers from bouts of depression.  It’s difficult to really see the world and how great it can be when everything feels like a dull gray. 

I think in Robin’s case, he had been so successful, for so long, and had been battling depression for so long (as evidenced by his substance abuse problems) that he hit that point where the expectations of him being that same, funny, loveable, incredible man, had finally crushed him.  When you feel as though you’re expected to succeed, and all you feel is that you are nothing or going to be nothing but a giant failure, it is no surprise that you might feel like giving up. 

Whatever he was feeling, I really hope he knew somewhere deep down that he truly was one of a kind, and that he has left an indelible mark on a few generations of fans, as well as anyone who ever had the privilege of working with, or even just meeting him.  I also hope that anyone else who might be going through something similar to him realizes that those positive things that people say about them are not some kind of cruel joke, or meant as added pressure, but rather a showing of appreciation for the good that they bring into other’s lives.  I know for myself, it’s like trying to pull a shark’s teeth out with a salami, but I’m working hard to remind myself that maybe, just maybe, I actually deserve some of that praise that comes my way. 

What Makes a Real Man

Since the heinous crime perpetrated by Elliot Rodger, I’ve been seeing a lot of articles and Youtube rants on misogyny, specifically the concept of masculinity and how it’s wielded as sort of a weapon against women.  It got me to thinking about how strange it is to be a male human, and yet by the definition set forth by what passes for typical masculinity, I don’t really qualify as a “man”.

I am not physically aggressive; I neither hide nor hide from my emotions; I believe whole-heartedly in equality for women; I don’t view women as objects to be won as if they were some sort of reward that is entitled to me; I do not have a domineering personality; I am not physically imposing; I am well aware of what I fear and will freely admit it, and a whole list of things that honestly would have a stereotypical “man” look at me and question if I’m actually a guy at all.

The type of thinking that has men trying to validate their masculinity leads mainly to violence and harm.  Being a ‘roided out monster who represses their emotions in order to “man up,” and who only see women as sexual objects who exist purely to satisfy their physical needs has somehow become the new standard for which men should strive.  The type of man who will stop at nothing to get what he wants, even when that involves hurting someone, raping someone, or just plain being a humongous dick to everyone around them, and somehow this is meant to be a goal for all men? 

I understand how that might have been the case back in prehistoric days.  Where your size equaled your ability to survive out in the harsh world.  Even then, women were still revered, because their ability to bring life into the world was considered something special.  Anthropological findings have long since dispelled the myth of men cracking their women over the head with a club in order to mate, and yet, it seems the men of today still see that as a lesson to be learned.  If you can’t get what you want, brute force and ignorance will get you there. 

It’s time that way of thinking is changed.  We need to redefine what makes a man, a man.  A modern man, who isn’t judged based on how many women he’s slept with, or how much weight he can lift, or how much money or material goods he is able to obtain.  I’ll try to put together a list that I think is appropriate and you can feel free to add or subtract the things that make sense to you.

First and foremost, a real man should take responsibility for his actions.  Men are self-aware, sentient creatures, or at least we’re supposed to be, so any decisions that they make should have some thought behind them.  There should no longer be an excuse of “boys ill be boys” whenever they do something wrong.  A member of the Indian government recently said “Boys will be boys, they make mistakes” in regards to rape.  People like this should be hung up by their toes and beaten like a pinata.  ( I said I wasn’t physically aggressive, it doesn’t mean I’m violence free )  If you are a real man, and you bring harm to someone, then you have to take responsibility and pay for your crimes. 

Of course, if you were a real man, you wouldn’t harm people for no good reason anyway, which brings me to my second point.  A real man would protect those who need protecting, whether or not they’re physically weaker than you, vulnerable, or just in a worse off place than you are at the time.  A real man cares for his fellow man, and would hate to see harm come to them if he could do something to prevent it. 

A real man would not be afraid to show his emotions.  He would be smart enough to realize that repressing your emotions to not appear weak to others only makes things worse for themselves.  Holding all of that in only leads to more internal pressure, and anyone who knows anything about that knows that eventually cracks will appear, and then a giant kaboom will follow.  A real man deals with his problems in the best way that he can so that he can resume a healthy life, where he can enjoy his time with loved ones fully.

A real man should be flexible enough to do whatever the situation demands for his family.  If you, as the man, have to stay home and be a house husband and a stay at home dad because that’s what is needed, then that’s what you do.  I’m not saying you can’t complain, because holding in that sort of resentment toward your spouse will only lead to marital woes, but at the same time, if it needs to be done, then you have to put in your best effort.  It is just another challenge that needs to be taken on, and a real man is always ready for a challenge.

A real man treats people with respect, but knows that respect has to be earned.  No matter your race, gender, sexual orientation, or tax bracket, a real man would treat you as he would want to be treated, as a human being.  He wouldn’t judge you based on things outside of your control, and he wouldn’t be quick to make judgments based on first impressions.  He knows that life is not made up only of his experiences, and that everyone has hardships that he may never have gone through.

And finally, a real man doesn’t feel entitled to anything.  He knows he has to work for what he deserves, and even then he might not get it.  However, he’s grateful for what he has and isn’t resentful of those who may have more.  He knows that life is what you make of it, and that it is his job to make his life mean something to him.

It’s not a very long list, but just because it’s simple doesn’t mean it’s easy.  To strive to be a better man, or more accurately, a better person, should be the goal of everybody on this planet, regardless of who or where you are.  Your job should be to improve the world around you, not to grab everything for yourself and claim power over all. 

Having written all that, I can’t say that I match all of those requirements for what I consider to be a real man.  However, I think those goals are something worth striving for, because they bring no harm to anyone, and only serve to better yourself and those around you.  Maybe I’m wrong, and there’s a component in the list that could potentially cause problems, but instead of looking for the cracks, how about first considering the positive spin on it first.  And if you have other things to add, leave them in the comments.  I’m always working to be a better person, and there may be things that I might not have considered.  Taking into consideration an outside perspective is also an important part of being a real man, because a real man knows that they don’t know everything.

What Comes Next?

I’ve been thinking about mortality quite a bit lately.  I’m not sure what exactly brought it on; probably reading articles about religion, atheism, scientific discoveries, and other things that makes one think about what we see and what we do and don’t know.  Anyway, I’ve been hit with this feeling of how enormous the amount of time is when you’re not alive and breathing on this planet, as opposed to the short amount of time you do spend doing whatever it is you do while you’re alive.

I’m not sure I can describe the feeling properly.  For me, it feels as though you’re sitting in a dark space, and you don’t know how large that space is.  The only thing that you can see is yourself, because you happen to be illuminated.  You can move about freely, but the only thing visible is yourself, and no matter how far you walk, you never hit a wall, or hear anything, or  see anything, not even anything directly at your feet.  If you stop moving, everything is still, all is silent, but it’s not the kind of quiet where you can hear your own heartbeat.  It’s just kind of empty, maybe white noise at best, kind of like what you get when you wear ear protectors.  That’s probably the best way I can describe the feeling I’ve been getting lately when I think about the vastness of time as it relates to my own life. 

I can say one thing definitively about that feeling… it scares the hell out of me.  It hit me the other night when I was lying in bed, somewhat suddenly, and it actually caused a bit of a panic.  It got me to thinking about what comes after death, since we can only experience our life while we’re alive, and no one knows what comes next.  There of course is a ton of speculation.  Innumerable religions have been founded on the idea of what comes next and how to get there.  The one constant is that there is something next, and that who we are as individuals doesn’t just disappear when we die.  Lying there, at night, with that feeling hitting me, I very much want to believe that one of those beliefs is true.  However, none of them have ever made sense to me, so I can’t subscribe to any religion, along with other reasons, hence my atheism.

However, it has made me wonder, and come up with my own theory.  It’s about as plausible as all the rest, although it may get a bit convoluted, so bear with me. 

If you look at life as a concept, it all comes in cycles.  We’re born, we live, we die.  That’s the basic individual life cycle.  However, on a larger scale, we see how death can lead to life.  We’re born, we live, we die, we return to the Earth, life emerges from our remains in some form.  Normally through plant life, but through that, energy is passed on to animal life, which ends up entering that life cycle, which in turn returns back to the plant life cycle. 

Ok, so we’ve established that.  Seeing that as cyclical, we now turn to our individual consciousness.  We, as individual humans, are born with basic consciousness.  However, it takes time for that to develop.  We are completely unaware of who we are as individuals until some time has passed, and we develop a sense of self.  For some, it takes longer than others, but it eventually happens.  As we get older, the biggest fear is that we lose our sense of self.  The older you get, the more likely this is to happen, but ultimately, we lose our sense of self completely when we die. 

During the entire course of our lives, we are converting a massive amount of energy, from the food that we consume, into our actions and thoughts.  Physics teaches us that energy and matter cannot be destroyed, just converted into different forms of energy or matter.  It also teaches us that due to this, we are all potentially made of star stuff.  Probability teaches us that given a long enough stretch of time, anything is possible.  There is also a theory floating around out there that the creation and destruction of the universe is also cyclical, as the universe is currently expanding, but will eventually collapse and shrink back down until it reaches critical mass and another big bang happens, thus entering into another cyclical phase.

So what I propose is this.  When your consciousness ends, at least the current version of it, you are completely unaware of time.  Time is only experienced by us because that’s how we interpret our actions, and how we move about in this dimension.  However, after your consciousness ends, all of that energy is converted.  Into what, I can’t say, but the energy that once composed who you are still exists, just in a different form.  Given a long enough time span, the energy that once was composed as you could potentially reform in the same way, possibly in the next iteration of the universe.  However, because you’re not experiencing time, you couldn’t tell this was happening, so you would theoretically wake up after your death, and still be you, and you would never know, except for the radical changes around you. 

It’s possible this may have happened already, or it’s possible we are just the first iteration.  There’s no way of knowing, but it’s fun to imagine.  The hard part is wrapping your mind around it, because it requires the stretching of the imagination into the realm of the infinite, and that’s not a comfortable place to be.  Of course, it’s also possible that this really is it, and once we die, there’s nothing at all after, but I like to imagine my theory has some plausibility to it, because it’s comforting in its own warped way.

That being said, I do still prefer to live the current life that I have as if it was finite, and my actions will have consequences that will be defined by what I did while I was alive now.  These actions and consequences extend to my family and friends, and whatever effect I have on them will be my legacy, so I have to be sure that what I’m doing now is the right thing for me.  There’s no sense in pining for the unknown, when you’re dealing with what you know right now.  (That’ll end my little morality blurb for this blog entry).

Now, none of what I said may make any sense.  Feel free to interpret it as the ramblings of a madman.  I honestly wrote this because thinking about death, for me, is more comforting than just being afraid of it.  Dealing with the fear with this weird mental exercise in explaining it with what little knowledge I have is what gives me the comfort needed to combat that weird feeling of vastness that I sometimes get.  Better than lying awake in bed all night feeling really tiny. 

Told you this blog was for catching all the detritus in my head.  Hope you enjoyed some of this bit of weirdness.