Strangeworld

I came home to Pequannock for Christmas break yesterday. I don't really know if I should count this place as home anymore because it really doesn't feel like it. When I'm at college, my parents miss me and our interactions through call/text are fine. When I'm home, their judgement weighs down on me and makes me feel like a caged animal.

The terror began when I got pulled over yesterday. I was petrified because first of all, I hate authority, and second of all, I knew a ticket would be another reason for me to get chastised at home. Sure enough, it was. Even though I skimped away with a $55 obstructed view charge, my mom was immediately up my ass about it when I walked in the door. Neither parent greeted me. My presence feels so burdensome. "Pay the ticket." "Start looking for jobs." "Take care of this or that." Or whatever. How about "Hello"?

It doesn't matter if I pull all A's my first semester. It doesn't matter if I prove myself to be independent. My mom's satisfaction with me is so impermanent and conditional. I could win the goddamn Nobel Peace Prize and she would probably just find something to berate me for instead of congratulating me. Now that I actually have things worth being proud of, I feel like they aren't recognized. And when I'm home, my independence seems to suddenly mean nothing to these people. It makes me feel restricted. Being in this house is suffocating. I understand now why August is never around.

My dad doesn't really seem to be helping the whole situation... sort of unintentionally. He can tell that I'm not thrilled to be here and tries to make things better but I'm just not in the mood. I want to hang out with him, I really do, but I know I'll end up going on a tangent because of how I feel right now. I have been so unbelievably stressed these past couple weeks and there is no way to put that into perspective. Turning down my dad when he wants to spend time with me, even if it's for a good reason, makes me feel rude and unappreciative. I know I'm too hard on myself but regardless, I'm going to make sure I correct that. Maybe I'll ask him to go fishing with me this week or something.

Awhile back, I deleted a few entries I had written about my mom. I'm going to put them back. They were written at points when I was not on good terms with her. It makes me sad to think the only way we can exist peacefully is through long-distance communication. Judging by how Thanksgiving went, I don't have the highest hopes for this month, but I will make the best of it.

Speaking of August, I don't remember if I ever mentioned them here. August is my older sibling. They are 21 and go to college for graphic design in Georgia. We didn't have a great relationship growing up, if you even count it as a relationship. I always assumed they hated me when we were younger but it turned out that much of their withdrawn and defensive behavior was due to mental illness. Nowadays, we both are in better places and recently we began talking again. They are in Toronto right now but will be home for a few days, and we are actually going to hang out. I've never hung out with August. We grew up in the same house but know virtually nothing about each other. I'm really excited to hopefully have a healthy relationship with them. In the past I thought that it would be difficult because they are closer with my mom, but I'm not sure that's the case anymore. When we talked the other day, it came across as if they are just as dissatisfied in this house as I am, and that's a pretty clear sign to me. I want to talk about the trauma my mom inflicted when I was younger and for years I've known that the only person who could possibly understand that is my sibling. Looking back, they had to have had similar experiences as a kid because I remember listening as my mom screamed her head off at them until they couldn't breathe.

So yeah, that's what's new. Great entry, I know. Fortunately, I just got a call from my old job and I'll be working 30 hours next week so I won't be in the house too often. I need the gas money.

I don't like feeling like I'm slipping away. My self-assessment has been poor lately, and I think it's because I've been high every night for the past two weeks. So, with the suggestion of cannabis comes the tale of the person who exposed me to it, a friend of mine I've been wanting to talk about here for awhile: Will. Buckle up, this one's a slow burner.

Will and I went to high school together and became close friends in our junior year. He was a semi-popular person in school because 1. he is gay beyond belief and 2. he is so tall that it's kind of hard to miss. That's a very shallow deduction of his character, though. What I see in Will is a gentle, kind, introspective, beautiful person. It only took hanging out with him once for me to realize that he is profoundly intelligent and emotional. It's hard to explain. I guess a good way to put it is that Will and I are very similar people intellectually, and naturally we became very close because of our demeanors. In fact, I can't say I've related to anyone more than I have to him. He was the only one who could hold a conversation with me about a variety of subjects, from our mutual love for nature to our mental health. We both knew exactly why we were friends. We never argued or assessed our relationship verbally because we didn't have to. When you get along so well with someone like that it feels like fate. It's a wonderful feeling. Will is not "like a brother" to me, he is my brother.

All last summer, Will and I hung out and traversed all planes of reality, from the great natural expanses set before us to the inner workings of our psyches. We hiked and took drives often, among other things like hanging around by his lake and with his equally chill brothers. In school, we were inseparable and we never stopped laughing. He introduced me to weed and in the latter half of summer, we got high together a handful of times which made us much closer. The amount of individual experiences I can recall with him are so many that I feel it would be useless to mention them in detail here (I've done that before... see "Ramblings of Maine"). In any case, around him I always felt loved and cared for. I hope he felt the same. Will and I were just strange people, and we were strange together. He taught me how to be truly happy with being myself, and I'll never not be grateful for that.

In the prime of our friendship, I realized that Will is (somehow) a more sensitive person than I am. Or rather, he can't handle the weight of the world as well as I can, which is sad because I do a pretty bad job. His empathy runs so deep that he is affected by almost everything around him, good or bad. Yet, despite his overwhelming purity and acuteness, Will was persistently plagued by trauma, mental illness, and horrible coping mechanisms. I guess it's true; we used to say he's like a frog, the way he is so vulnerable to the outside world. I tread lightly around his health because I knew that he had fears that he didn't want to confront with me. Everyone has boundaries, and it just wasn't my place to pressure him down a path he wasn't ready for. I don't blame myself, but I wonder now if I should've done something about it. Come winter 2020, Will and I were hardly speaking. I found out rather late that he had been admitted to three different psych wards over the course of a single month. I still have no idea why, nor do I want to hear from anyone other than himself. Currently, he is in a residential hospital and according to the one text I have from him, he seems to be doing better.

The whole psych ward revelation was genuinely scarring for me, even though many of my close friends have been to one before. But this was different. Will and I were always good at being emotional together, but what about apart? Suddenly I found myself deeply depressed by his absence, mourning his situation and hoping that his recovery would be safe and fulfilling. He is still away all these months later, and I think about him almost every day. He missed prom, which is still so painful considering we had excitedly outlined our plans for it together. Likewise, driving through his town is absolutely gutting and I cry if I think about him a little too hard. Everywhere I go, memories of last summer fill my mind, but amidst the gloom I find myself smiling fondly at the good times. The rainy days we spent outside, the hot chocolate simmering on his gas stove, all of it. It's bittersweet. I miss him more than I can put into words, but I am so relieved he is getting the care he needs. In the end, I know that what is happening now is for the better even if it hurts.

I think the reason Will's case is so important to me is because he was one of the only people who experienced the world around him the same way I did. We both felt so much and understood so little. I've never met another person like that and doubt I ever will. Despite our emotional dispositions, our friendship was never exhausting or fragile like so many turn out to be. I have a history of being in less than redeeming relationships, so attaining a friend like Will reshaped my understanding of a healthy one. Looking back, all I see is a strong, pure, mutual trust between us. Search as I might, I can't conjure a single moment of hurting or anything of the sort in the span of our friendship. Around Will, I simply was. And thanks to Will, I simply am. His return, whenever it may be, will definitely bring out some intense emotions.

This one's for you, Will. I miss you, man.

Will's Playlist

Jatin and I went to high school together. He was an icon of sorts- known for being a well-versed and argumentative communist (at least in my circles). He was also rich, and had a friend group of people who were above me socially, but quite irrelevant to my circles and therefore not very important to me. My earliest impressions of him were poor due to his dismissive personality and also my unintelligent agenda at the time. I remember having one conversation with him before junior year, and even then the details are slim. He was gone for some of freshman year because he was in a psych ward or something (corrected after I asked him), but for some reason I don't remember anyone really caring when he casually reappeared next year. At that point, we had more classes together and I began to pick up on his mannerisms and such. Although I had a vague notion of this already, I classified Jatin as a dangerous person. There was no way in Hell that his general lack of expression and strange behavior meant nothing. I suspected he was mentally ill in various ways and thus adopted a new unintelligent agenda of trying to become his friend. And no, it did not produce a heartwarming story about camaraderie, trust, and coming-of-age because Jatin is a sociopath. Ironically, it has been almost a year and a half since we went to school together and Jatin is currently my closest friend, despite moving away.

The great juxtaposition of our friendship is twofold; the disparities of our social backgrounds and personalities relative to high school make us an unexpected duo, but I find that most of our differences are purely innate and far beyond our egotized school identities. We communicate almost exclusively one on one over the internet, too, so the circumstances are extremely specific. Our relationship is exhausting, unfamiliar, and exactly the type of social stimulation I desire. Becoming close to Jatin requires that one shed all forms of judgement they may carry and attempt to understand him on a strictly pragmatic level. He is not kindhearted or remorseful for his behavior in the slightest, hardly ever displays empathy, and seeks to manipulate for his personal gain. He finds joy in hurting others and seeks attention where he knows he can get it. He harasses others, has episodes, and produces nuclear amounts of hatred. This being said, despite being one of the worst human beings I have ever met in my life, I am keen on seeing how far I can push the envelope in being his friend. In this sense, I am glad we interact exclusively one on one. I am an overtly emotional person and I navigate my relationships cautiously with the intention of breaking them in, past the point of fruitless surface-level conversation. This being said, most of what I have just stated is all to Jatin's knowledge and I have made my intentions specifically clear.

It took me a long time to make headway with Jatin. First came the issue of my own emotional tendencies, being used to establishing close relationships rather quickly with people. I had unrealistic expectations for Jatin and very little understanding of his lack of empathy. He picked on me relentlessly because that's what he does. There were multiple occasions where I anticipated some sort of sincerity from him and ended up hurting myself as a result. There were also instances where I felt he was forcing himself to deliver an answer I wanted to hear, but could see directly through it. We argued a decent amount, and admittedly, my perseverance during this stage was purely out of weakness and inability to leave unhealthy situations. The specifics of these events don't come clearly anymore because they are not recent, but I remember enduring a great deal of pain. The kind someone is supposed to run away from. Sometime in January after seriously contemplating whether or not I should keep talking to him, I realized that I would have to be the one to change if things were to improve. Most normal people would probably leave at this point. Instead, I started reading more about sociopathy. I asked questions on forums, read a plethora of articles, questioned my sanity, and prepared to see it through to the end. Eventually, I told Jatin that I could be a better friend to him, and from there things improved. We began having healthier conversations and I feel generally safe pointing out behaviors that upset me to him, and I'm relatively certain he feels safe being honest about it with me. That communication is extremely necessary and something I prioritize in our friendship. I figure it's probably a good thing for him to have people to talk openly to, and giving him the freedom to do so has brought out shades of him I did not expect to see (i.e. apologies, general consideration of my emotions, not making me feel stupid anymore, etc.). I understand him pretty well now, and he is not as unpredictable or harsh as he lets off. I've broken him, I think. His behavior is merely a science, and an easy one to understand at that. I keep his urges to lie, exploit, and harm in mind when I analyze anything he says to me. I am basically bulletproof. And it's true that there is change happening on his end as well. Very recently he said (quite timidly) that he thinks he has an emotional relationship with me, which caught me completely off guard. It makes me happy, sure, but again, this isn't a heartwarming tale. I am still unsure about just how deep his lack of emotional intelligence runs, but there is one thing I am certain about- he at least tries for me... sometimes.

With Jatin comes a flood of apprehensions and paranoia. I still wonder if I am subject to his manipulation because I know I am very prone to that. He has even reminded me verbally that I will be taken advantage of many times in my life. I already know that. I don't like to live with that fear, but even if I'm wrong, I'm still an idiot. I think it's natural for me to feel this way. Jatin requires an extraordinary amount of patience and acclimation. He may not realize how high maintenance he is, but I am the same way. He's a relatively normal guy when we aren't psychoanalyzing him into oblivion. And besides, I've hardly talked about all the things I appreciate about him. I love watching shows and movies with him, or playing video games, even just talking, whatever. He's got a good sense of humor and good taste in just about everything. He doesn't give a shit about my gender identity or interests, and resents my mom probably more than I do. He's probably one of the least judgmental people in my life, and to that extent I think there's more to learn from him besides how to torture yourself emotionally. I love him like I love any of my other close friends.

I could seriously write so much more about this guy. I didn't talk about the gun or the cocaine or the raves or anything. This is somehow still a very vague description of him. But that's close friendship I guess. Once again I've exerted my mind for the sake of documentation, and it was well worth it. I can't wait to read this in two years and take in that I am out of my goddamn mind.

>If things are to continue the way they are, this can no longer be my alter ego. I must become a person that does not exist.

Yesterday I took an impromptu road trip with Adam to Philadelphia. Adam is my coworker. He is 24, but honestly a very similar person to me. We hit it off immediately and once in awhile we will hang out because we are much too preoccupied to talk philosophy at work. I almost feel like a student in his presence, although our exchanges are pretty equal. It's hard for people like us to find each other. He agrees.

Adam was deliberate with this two hour ride to the city. Halfway through discussing the fleeting nature of the human body relative to the mind, he said something along the lines of "this is why I brought you". It feels good to feel appreciated like this. I'm glad other people value this type of banter as much as I do, especially since our road trip conversation made me rethink what I said previously on ego death.

I'm not sure ego death is the key to "enlightenment" anymore. Adam says that enlightenment is *probably* an unachievable thing, which when I think about it, I don't disagree. Previously, I expected that getting over my ego would help me reach my end goal, but I realize that while I want to ascend the trivial nature of humans, I still need to be human. In fact, it's the focus on trivial things that lets me appreciate all of life's details, and I don't want to thwart that fascination because it is not only innate, but important to my personal development. Having an ego is different than having a personality. I don't need to be a saint to get where I am going, and I don't need to punish my nature to live an intelligent life. My focus has now changed to slowly controlling or removing traits that interrupt my intellectual pursuit instead of aiming for perfection. I should learn to love my personality as I love others', because in the end I am no different from them. Like them, I am human.

A secondary narrative plays indefinitely in my mind 24/7, which I didn't really notice until yesterday. The influence that little voice has over my temperament is much more effective when executed in reality. I think a good example of this is the fact that I rarely feel impatient anymore. Yesterday I observed this while waiting for Adam outside of a gas station in a Philly neighborhood, sipping birch beer and feeling no obligation towards time. I was more than content absorbing my surroundings, and continued to do so as we walked through subways, stations, side streets, and even the overwhelming center of the city. It's a pleasant balance of thinking and feeling, nothing more nothing less. This is a trait I see in Adam, too. I learned something important from him yesterday. I'm really grateful for that.

On a lighter note, our night in the city was fantastic. We had some amazing Mexican food at Los Caballitos Cantina, a restaurant that was bustling with punk-clad servers and happy hour patrons. I was able to eat comfortably in public for the first time in years. As for everything else, Adam is generally a exuberant guy to be around, whether we are invested in a deep conversation or racing each other down a flight of stairs. I think we both had a great time.