My Obsession

Most people will never know.

In fact, unless your brain works like mine, there is no way for you to relate. I know a few people who are like me, we are all around you, just pay attention to the people you see. We walk around work, pacing with our arms crossed. When you tap us on the shoulder, we jump. When you ask us a question, we kind of stare at you blankly and then say, ‘I’m sorry, did you say something?’

At times, it sounds as if we stop in the middle of our sentences and then start again. If you aren’t one of us, you will never understand. You will never know what it is like to have your brain run faster, and with more thoughts than it can handle. You will never know what it is to obsess constantly over everything and nothing at all.

Some of us go even further than obsessing. We have taken pessimism to a whole new level. We will, invariably turn a casual meeting that someone couldn’t make into an attempt to stab us in the back. We will, without a doubt, start imagining car accidents and funerals for friends that are ten minutes late. Mark my words, we can, and we will find a way to take anything and quite literally turn it into the end of the world.

The things we think about don’t make any sense. Quite literally, and quite often, they don’t make any sense to us. We are intelligent people who have overactive imaginations, and for some reason, a way of looking at the world that turns everything negative.

We spend a good majority of our time second-guessing what we want to say, what we need to say or what we are trying to say. We do this before, during and after we say it. Sometimes, we obsess about something we said a few YEARS after we originally said it.

Quite honestly, if I ever had a chance to THINK what anyone thought about these blogs, I would probably stop writing them. Things I have such a hard time saying in person flow so freely from my fingertips that you would never imagine that Jake the Writer and Jake the Person were one in the same.

I spend most conversations with people thinking, ‘well, if I say that, they will think…’ Over time, it has just become easier for me to assume that no one reads what I write. It takes a lot for me to open up either mentally or emotionally to most people. I have spent a good majority of my lifetime assuming that I am being indicted for the things that I feel or think. When people tell you that you are weird or crazy for thinking the way you do, or liking the things you do, or worrying the way you do, you stop telling them these things. It’s only human nature to try to fit in to the way of everyone else’s thinking.

As much as I have tried, I can’t help it any more than a cripple can help walking with a limp. The only thing I can do is to start thinking about other things, besides the thing I’m obsessing about. By this time, I am trying to stop thoughts by thinking about them, which literally makes no sense. It is for all intents and purposes, throwing gasoline on the fire.

There have been numerous instances when I have been in the middle of a few thoughts when someone asked me a question, and it has taken a few seconds of contemplation before I understood what was being said. There has been more than one occasion when I have had so many thoughts running through my head that I have forgotten to breathe.

At any given moment, I have so many thoughts running through my head, that I wish I could hide from them. I think about things, then wonder why I think about things, THEN think that I am crazy for wondering about thinking about things. My brain can develop scenarios that no one has ever experienced before. It is a melting pot of ideas, and they flow from me faster than I can handle them.

Reading about it can ill express what it feels like, but here is an example of some things that pass through my brain in an average second:

“What did I do this time, why wont they tell me about the job, god, I’m hungry, my head hurts, I’m tired, my brother needs to stop drinking so much, well at least the expensive shit, when are they going to realize how little actual physical work I do all day, why do all my black shirts fade when no one else’s do, dammit they shorted me on my check, they better fix it or I’m gonna raise hell, shrinks suck, every one I have called has the same office hours I have, they are going to fire me, my eye itches, my head hurts, why am I so damn hungry, I want a GT, I cant afford a GT, my cell phone sucks, I need to stop buying crap that I don’t need, how am I ever going to afford that car, god, I cant believe I said ‘I cant let you drink alone’ in that dorm room in ’98 what the hell was I thinking that was stupid it just made me sound like I was trying to be cool, I cant believe that I am obsessing about something that happened in ’98, at least I’m not obsessing about something that happened in HS, god I hate myself for yelling at Matt that one time, crap, I’m obsessing over something that happened in HS, why is my mom calling over and over again, oh god, oh god, my brother must have gotten in a car accident, that’s the only reason she would try so hard to get a hold of me, get a hold of yourself Jake, she would call you at work if it was an emergency, I need to stop worrying so much, commas slow me down too much what the hell are those little rubber things for we have them all over but they don’t seem to serve any purpose why wont she believe me why do I obsess so much about things I cant control my knee itches F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 Alt+F4 how come everyone else seems at peace and I feel like I am at war why do I assume only the worst out of people how come I can identify what is wrong with me but I cant fix it I don’t want to go to a shrink I’m not crazy I just need to reason myself out of this like I reason myself out of every other problem I can fix myself I can fix myself son of a bitch why do I feel this way do I tell people the way I feel or the way I want to feel I hate myself I love myself people don’t understand self loathing they understand narcissism everyone hates me why do I have to fight everyone to get what I want why do people lean on me when they need to talk about things and I cant get the same courtesy in return why does everyone feel the need to try to make me feel worse when I talk about my problems no one knows no one knows I am ashamed to have emotions my father says it is a weakness my mom starts crying over Folgers’ commercials I cant relate to anyone why am I so damn hungry I cant eat I feel like a pig when I eat I have to be perfect I have to be perfect no one wants me around it seems like I always have to be the one to make the effort to spend time with anyone maybe I am trying to hard maybe I’m trying too much billions of people on this planet how come I feel like they are against me maybe I am being to selfish what are you talking about you aren’t being to selfish asking to be appreciated once in a while how come I bend over backwards for people and I don’t get the same in return god those machines are perfectly symmetrical this pen sucks ass I need to know I need to know why am I so afraid and ashamed to be myself where did they get a red swingline stapler I cant fall asleep I cant fall asleep I am so bored I want to cry this is my own hell I feel like I am being stifled I am so afraid that I am going to say the wrong thing and she is going to hate me I need to try she doesn’t understand how much she has changed me and my life she is everything I have to show her I have to tell her I have to keep her I cant let her go not now not ever I have to make our lives better I have to be everything to everyone I cant wear glasses I look like a dork I know I am a dork but it doesn’t mean I have to look the part I wish I was never a kid and had to deal with some things how can she not know what she means to me I need to be more open with her is that a gun to my back I cant get fat I cant get fat these walls feel like they are caving in I just want to be normal I just want to be normal I don’t want to think anymore this is torment who names fonts anyway I feel so inferior that I need to paint myself as a narcissist to hide why hasn’t my brother called oh god he got in a car accident stop looking over my shoulder I should be designing aircraft not databases I’m a fucking loser why do I keep looking at my cell phone cant stop moving cant stop moving that doctor is a liar why aren’t I fixed I wish I could forget everything and not be this person any more I misspelled classes why do I always have to fight for people to understand why do I always have to yell for them to listen no one knows no one knows no one knows what its like to…”

If any of you are still there and you could read that in a second or two, you now know a little more about what it is like to be me.