The Square-one Approach

Fall semester: day eighteen

I think I'm on some sort of self-destructive, self-sabotage streak. Why? Couldn't tell you. How? Couldn't really tell you that, either. It's just some things I've noticed myself doing and/or saying that I step back from and think to myself -- as if it's some sort of out-of-body experience -- seriously? you just said that?

Case in point: were I of a more rational mind, I probably wouldn't have mentioned the thing about the Sailor Mercury costume in my mock dating profile blog post last week. But it's out there now, everyone knows it, and it's not like I can take it back and have everyone not remember it. Still, it's that looking back that sort of, to an extent, mortifies me that I would be that open with myself and the readers of this blog. What's even scarier is that most of my friends didn't even bat an eyelash at that statement or comment to me about it, as if they were all silently thinking yep, that's Brandon for you.

Perhaps my ability to be direct, blunt, and have my life read like an open book will eventually be my downfall.

It's not just been here on the blog, though; I've noticed that in my conversations with friends and other people that I'm becoming increasingly more caustic or self-incriminating. I will say these words, I will hear them leaving my body through my mouth, and suddenly I become of two minds: one is the normal me, the one speaking, and the other is holy shit what is wrong with you me, the part of me that usually dials it back a notch for respectability's sake.

I've been told before (most famously by the former girlfriend, but by others as well) that I don't have a filter and frequently need one. What is meant by this, obviously, is a mental filter that stops me from saying these sorts of things as soon as they come into my head. As a respected writer and member of our GTA community (and I use the terms "respected," "writer," and "community" very loosely here), I obviously have a filter for most social and/or formal situations, such as when I'm dealing with the administration or when I'm teaching/attending my classes. When I'm around friends, though, that filter is mostly removed. Now, it seems, that filter has almost been fully removed, and the things I say are careless and rash -- though not in the hurt feelings way, but the why are you telling people this sort of way.

I'd like to think that it's because I'm becoming bolder as a person, that my confidence levels are slowly rising again to the point where I want people to have -- pardon the pun -- an unfiltered opinion of me, if they have one at all. Frequently, however, I don't think that's truly been the case. What I really think is going on is that I actually want to be noticed, if subconsciously. It's not exactly the desperate, hey everyone, pay attention to me gene I exhibited in high school and in my early undergrad years at WVU, when I had no friends and desperately wanted someone to actually acknowledge my existence, but it's like a more evolved version of that, a more subtle one that I notice is rising in my personality right now.

To be frank, I'm on campus about thirty hours per week, roughly. Give or take, anyway. Six hours of that, I spend teaching. Nine more hours I spend actually in my own classes. That leaves fifteen hours a week that I'm just there, whether in my office, office hours, or just around the department. Of those fifteen hours, maybe a third of them -- at most -- are actually spent around other people, with my colleagues and friends in the program. The rest of my week aside from those thirty hours on campus is spent at home living a solitary lifestyle, working on school-related tasks, driving to and from school, or running errands. Those five hours per week, however, that I interact with other people outside of a classroom environment seem to be key to keeping my sanity.

Brandon, some of my friends will say when they read this, this is why you need to get out more and do stuff with us.

Permit me to be a bit blunt yet again, but that's not really the point. It's about effort -- it takes no effort for someone to say "Hey Brandon, come down to Wichita this weekend and hang out with us," but not once has someone said anything along the lines of "Hey, I realize you have a shitty car that gets horrible gas mileage, you're pretty much broke, and you have a ton of work to do; want me to come up to Newton this weekend and do something up there with you to get your mind off things?" No, that doesn't happen. I'm not placing blame or trying to single anyone out, of course, because I'm not that kind of person. I'm just sayin'.

The point I'm trying to make is that I'm in a weird place right now; not weird bad, just in a place I haven't been personality-wise in many years: I'm single, I'm in college, and I live a rather isolated life -- so, really, it's like the same life I had as an undergraduate student at WVU ten years ago. I never thought I'd be living this lifestyle again, and if you would've told me upon my move to the midwest five years ago that I eventually would be, I would have laughed at you. In essence, I'm really starting my life again from a square-one approach, as I did those ten years ago when I was thrust into a new situation with new friends, and subconsciously, at least, I think my mental state is somewhat compensating for that by reverting back to its former self then -- albeit a more mature, cynical, hardened version. Does any of that make sense?

Here's the kicker, however, and this is what scares me: contrary to what you people may think you know about me, in my undergrad years when I previously lived in this sort of lifestyle, I was -- for lack of a better term -- not a good guy. In fact, I was a pretty horrible person. I did and said many things that I now feel deeply sorry and shameful for, such as seducing women away from their fiances, for one good example amongst many, only to toss them aside when I was "done with them." Yeah, that happened. More than once. I'm not proud of it -- in fact, more than anything else, I'm stunned, because frankly I wasn't as attractive then as I am now (I was about 60 pounds fatter, for one) and I had no clue how I did it, especially with the low self-esteem I had then. With the confidence (and, well, arrogance) I have now, if I were to become that sort of person again it would be catastrophic.

That is, by the way, something I've never told anyone before publicly. I've mentioned it in passing to several friends, giving a few of them details if asked, and I've mentioned it here as well in passing over the past several years, but I never gave the full details to anyone -- not even the former girlfriend, as it (obviously) happened before she and I were together, and once we were, she didn't want to know anything about my past -- not to mention I wanted to forget it myself.

In the years since, I've atoned for my sins; I've matured, I've changed in the ways that count, and I am no longer that person I once was, and never want to be him again. Being that guy made me a lot of enemies; some of them I've made peace with over the years, and others still hate me to this day, for good reason. I've recently been in contact with several old friends from that time period of my life, and I've had to reassure them -- sounding like an old man the entire time, I'm sure -- that I'm no longer the guy I was back then. It took some time and convincing to get them to believe me.

My point is, I am not going to be that person again, despite any of my out-of-body experiences I have when I think just what in the hell is wrong with you or why are you telling people these fucking things? I have a chance now to basically redo my life from the ground up, from square one. That, I think more than anything else, is the purpose of this blog. It lets all of you in on the evolution of my character, my thoughts and emotions, in a barebones he's rebuilding himself sort of way. I'm not there yet, obviously; it takes a lot more time and effort than I currently have the ability to put in.

Still, those fifteen hours per week that I spend in and around the department, whether I'm talking to or hanging out with anyone or not, is slowly helping. Truthfully, most of the friends I've made in the department have become ghosts up there, as mentioned here once or twice before -- meaning they're only there when they have to be, and they don't seem to have the time or desire to actually hang out anymore. Most of the ones who do stick around all day seem to be busy or act like I'm bothering them if I stop by their offices to chat, so I've cut back on that a lot as well. Most of the free time I have now is spent talking to Suri, as I'm not sure I could ever "bother" her, and Rae & Kay, who at times I know I must be grating on, so if I get that feeling I tend to take my leave. Ironically, the three of these ladies together are the ones to which I say most of these what the hell is wrong with you sort of sentences.

So yeah. Step by step, day by day, here I am in evolution. I'm trying to rebuild myself with the metaphorical knowledge and tools I have access to -- hitting a few snags here and there, but still moving forward and upward.

Or, at least I'd like to think so. You be the judge.