March 21, 2007
Again, another journal that was a true task to write. I had to stay up a few hours to let my computer cool down from my last blog. Hope I can budget a Dell into the tax refund.
I knew the mood I was in, and wanted to maintain it to write this. So I watched "The End of Evangelion", an anime about a Revelations like apocalypse with giant robots.
Call it a sixth sense, but I think everyone would have preferred that I'd just watch "Family Guy" and "Aqua Teen Hunger Force".
I let it out as soon as I could in PHP today. My therapist asked me to go here to regain an interest in life. Find a reason to live. Just because the meds work, doesn't mean that I can justify going on without passion.
The battle again came about my need for a significant relationship. To finally be the significant part of another life. But they seemed to say it's about finding a girl when I wanted to talk about the bullshit of being everyone's friend in wrestling to get booked instead of busting my ass in the ring.
How do we jump from the wanting to be pounded in the ring to the wanting to be pounding in the bedroom? Okay. They are related as I established. Sing along if you know the words:
"If I can't succeed socially, I can't accomplish anything."
"If I can't succeed in the ring, I can't accomplish anything....better yet, if I can't accomplish anything with my passion, how can I accomplish anything?"
If you haven't caught on, I'm not big on affirmation. I know I'm a good person, but I know I can't get my needs met by being myself. Fuck Stewart Smally.
"Talk to everyone." "Play pool with strangers." "Don't observe to find a place to fit in." "Just throw yourself out there."
Excuse me, it's not hard to tell the pretentious hip hoppers, red necks, and guys who growl to show their love for guys who growl into a mic and make seven figures.
"How can you not demand attention in social settings? You do it in the wrestling ring."
Wrestling is my passion. I'm not out there to gain attention. I'm out there to express myself. Love it or hate it. If the story is told right, it doesn't matter. The fans react, I know I did well. Nothing more needs to be said from them, just my promoters. You are booking Russ Staley not Russ Stevens
If Adam Vinaterri didn't kick all those game winners, who would give a shit about a kicker? Did Kevin Butler even have a line to rap in the Super Bowl shuffle? Fuck that funky QB.
My "denials" (something I had to get accustomed to in the substance abuse class) of help confused the group. No. They don't want me to change or not be true to myself, but they don't want me to not succeed.
By the end of the session, I got to my dilemma. Jeez it only took ten days.
The only time I had direction was when I had a passion for something all the time. It was simple to start. Wrestling was all I took the time to focus on.
Then I fell in love with Stacia, so nothing could go bad for me. If wrestling was poor, Stacia would keep my head in it no matter how she hated feeding me at her place when I busted my wrist.
I lost Stacia, but Stefanie picked me up from there because she believed I was the guy Stacia thought I was. She gave me a chance and opened my mind and gave me direction.
I lost Stefanie, so I tried to be there for my friends, and was left with few true friends because everyone else took my Mom's advice and grew up.
I am sick of girls telling me I'm not confident enough. Everyone I care about knows who I am damn near completely. They know I give my all, scared or not.
Still the macho fuck gets the girl cause they don't show fear. Can I at least lose out to somebody who isn't fake? What is so fucking wrong with me that I can't be a boyfriend while someone who doesn't let you know who they are with a light show (sounds more creative than smokescreen) is worth it?
The same goes with the ring. Tell me how to wrestle better. Not to be one of the boys. I've seen enough shoots interviews. Being one of the boys is being an asshole.
I made my choices in life to come to some kind of end. That there would always be a direction to be myself. When there wasn't, the life was over.
I need someone who can support me in how I approach life. Not change me. And point me in that direction.
Maybe I do need an easy friend as Kurt Cobain wrote. But that isn't attainable. I gave my all, but no one will give me the chance.
Why? Because I won't take the chance and Great White a club. That'd be exciting, but man the damage I can cause without pyro scares me enough.
The direction I need to go wasn't shown in PHP. Fulfilling the qualities of being attractive wasn't shown. Proof that I can still accomplish something wasn't provided.
As long as I hope and as I long as I live, I will end up all right.
I'm not a prophet. God can show me some answers, but I can't wait for him to turn my Smart Water into Stoli.
I left PHP with ways to cope with being a loser, but not how to keep on living. The answer was "just keep going to your therapist" who wanted this program to give me the means to carry on.
The End is the Beginining is the End. Zero. Anymore weak Smashing Pumpkins singles to describe my life?
Well, I was conceived in 1979. Still dealing with cool kids who never had the time.
If I'm optimistic about anything is that baseball season will start and their will be 50 other peopling dealing with being loser.
The White Sox and The Cardinals.
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