Where do we begin...

My birthday was last week and despite my continued calls to absolve the day of any significance, I still find myself suffused with thoughts of the past 35 years of life. In inverse proportion to how much I like to publicly discuss my true inner thoughts and past history, I am fascinated by how others perceive me. The first person narrative is the most important, but I have access to all the secrets and have evaluated most of the inner workings, so it lacks novelty. And ultimately how others perceive you is directly related to what you can accomplish in this world.

At one time or another I have been referred to as a reckless fool, manic-depressive, insane, black hearted, soulless, untrustworthy, asocial, utterly ruthless, vain, and unhealthy. Heartwarming to be sure and there has been a joke that all potential mates should be given a stern warning and an informative pamphlet prior to a first date. On the flip side, I have also been described–often by the same people–as calculating, reliable, loving, strong willed, charming, principled, and one of their closest friends. I find an emotional core strengthening program is important in preventing whiplash.

I question myself if I could be rightly called all those things and it is a resounding yes. Naturally, those labels pale in comparison to how I think of myself.

"All the world is a stage," goes the adage; one that often seems poorly rehearsed and written at the last minute–typically on a typewriter with a few sticky keys. But consider, if you will, that a play is just a three hour presentation, which has months and months of preparation and work behind it. That backstage perspective is how every single person thinks of him or herself on the stage of life. There are decades of memories and entire days full of positive/negative, emotional, and physical stresses behind every interpersonal interaction. That thought echoes through my brain every single time I interact with another person. It drives me a bit insane but it also gives me a much needed dose of perspective when things go awry.

Our actions are how others define us. What we are underneath only matters to us. That is one of the reasons I keep a great deal of my thoughts and machinations to myself. As much as people like to claim they are open and accepting, there are stigmas, stereotypes, and fears laying just under the surface. People like to name and categorize their world into simpler terms; understanding and accepting the underlying complexity is neither a pleasant nor relaxing way of living. Based on my experience, few are willing to put in the legwork and clemency on a daily basis.

If I detailed every single thought that flies through my head in a single hour, I think even my closest friends would be aghast. As much as it tickles me to idolize the likes of Sherlock Holmes, The Doctor, or Batman, there is a curse in their approach to humanity. Our ideals and heroes can shape us just as much as our experiences, and in my attempts to explore the depths and limits of who I am, I have lost a certain amount of approachability and even perhaps sanity. There are even days when I feel I am losing my humanity.

That sounds dark. It is not, at least not to me; I think of it as all encompassing. I have suffered from depression, rage, and loneliness. Of course I have contemplated suicide or running away to a remote location. I have also contemplated true love, marriage, and children. The scope of my thoughts and reasoning are not bound in any way.

What it comes down to is that I want to be more than who I am now. I continually feel incomplete and unsatisfactory. Staying still is not an option. When I see people relaxing their guard and slowing down, I know in my bones that that is not who I am. I want to do more; no, scratch that, I need to do more.

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Well, that is one of my perspectives at least.