I have been laughing that ironic laugh. Somewhere in my head, I'm the burden now. I am burdening others with my emotions. I feel that way at least. It will go by with time and will heal. I won't always be so emotional. I am just a wreck at times, and it's just torture at some points. I find benefit in sitting an writing. I find benefit in going through the causes and triggers and sources and where the wound comes from originally. I don't find benefit in the beating myself up about being mean to a friend. Someone I considered a friend and who I cared for. But it doesn't look like I even liked her. I wish I could have seen this without so much ego at first.

I am giving credit to the ego for needing to be right. I heard from a gentleman that sometimes we need to tear ourselves down so that we can build back stronger and better. I know that I have nothing to worry about. The future looks good, and I don't have any problems, not real ones. I have some things in my head that can be addressed with a bit of movement, breathing, and connecting with the body. I might also punch this bag and feel a little better. There are many outlets for mental distress. I couldn't do that before, and I am barely good at it now. It doesn't come natural. I just want to yell and scream and be angry. That's the victim. The non-victim finds a way to keep going and doesn't let those desires consume.

I am stating things as facts at times, but I want to know that none of this is set in stone. I am fluidly working through this material. It can be frustrating for the reader to see me wrestle with ideas, conclude, and return to the wrestling in the next paragraph. I'm a burden on the reader as well. Man!! I am just a big ol' burden these days. I am a burden to myself. I am not a burden.

I am human. I am having a human experience. This is part of it. I can't remember ever going through this type of experience before. Maybe I am newly human! I'm not a robot anymore. Yay!!

There's a laugh out of me. Business mode or emo mode... Take a pick. It can be both, just not at the same time. I heard that some people are good at compartmentalizing, and I wonder how to develop that skill. I might have to jump out of here and get myself an education of how to be better at compartmentalizing. And now I'm shattering all of my beliefs. The struggle for some people is not something I can understand in a real sense. I can try, but when trying to understand as someone else, it feels like making them separate or different. I get the feeling that I'm judging someone when I step into their shoes. The tendency to not discuss emotions and go through life without talking about things is a way to cause confusion. I may have gone overboard on this first attempt. I'm new at this, y'all. I'm giving myself some credit for trying. I look forward to when this isn't a problem anymore....

I crack myself up at times. I have to laugh. Even when I'm crying, I'm laughing. It is a serious moment, and I laugh when I realize it's torture instead of productive. I take a breath. I have been finding some way to connect with the body. I did a 30sec handstand today. I also did an 18sec after the longer one. I did a few push ups. I am not proud in a negative sense. But I feel a sense of accomplishment that tells me to keep going. I am seeing progress. I can't be mad at myself if I don't hold it any kind of long, and I'm not going to celebrate myself too big. I celebrate, I share the accomplishment. But I'm cautious to not think I know anything. I am still learning. I want to say thank you to all those who have listened to me.

I'm also getting to notice how some people move on. It gives some indication into how they think. I disagree with all of it. I disagree with anyone trying to diagnose. There is nothing to diagnose. There is no nothing wrong with people. These are all just a bunch of random factors added together to get the mix unique. I am defending and taking accountability.

I have a voice that says all that is wrong and I'm perfect, and everyone else messed up. I am not listening to that voice. It feels like pure ego. It also keeps me stuck as the same person. I am looking at my reactions. I think back to being on the phone, and why is it every okay to yell at someone when they are making noise in the background. I remember doing this once before and getting a good result. It got the result in this situation also. The original situation was making a call from jail. I couldn't hear and yelled at everyone. I also know there is a right way and a wrong way to raise my voice. Sometimes raising the voice is necessary, but it is never necessary to say something mean. Even for enemies, I can have respect. I can be kind to my enemy. Why couldn't I be kind to someone I love? Loved ones seem to get the worst of us. Why is that?

There's something to explore, and I may need to learn something more about the topic. My current theory goes something like treating the loved ones the way we treat ourselves. It doesn't go well if I don't like myself. This feels wildly incomplete and simplified. It has some validity, but it can't be the whole thing. That's when I go full on with research into the topic just to change up several times and end up learning the original theory was correct. But that's how it all goes right? The search for enlightenment ends when I realize there was nothing to desire and it was all within me the whole time. Looking everywhere but the backyard, and thinking happiness or joy exists somewhere outside of myself. I want to talk about little things and laugh about little stuff. I need someone who can debate the workings of the universe just to get to conclusion of gratitude. There is something about going all the way around just to end up back at the beginning. That's how it will go. I'm calling it now. There's a story to be written.

I started the outline of a time traveler story. Just like all the other versions of time travel, we can't change the past. This story involves dedicating a lifetime to understanding time travel and its practical application. The man of the story has said all the wrong things, and he travels back in time 1,000 times to try different combinations of words. Every attempt to change it only lasted for a moment, but they all ended the same way. There are so many different tries, and the hope of a young man is eventually changed into reflection. It was him the whole time. It wasn't the words that needed changing, it was the man. After 1,000 attempts he tells himself that he tried everything. But he realizes that he hadn't tried to look at himself. He starts working on himself, and time had passed. Without the aid of time travel, the changes were recognized. There was no rush, and there was no goal outside of being the kind of man who can and does.

There is a noble goal. Be a good man.