A Depressing Day
February 13th, 2023
(I can't believe a week ago I said my mental health was great. My brain is getting waterboarded.)
I went lifting this afternoon. Was too crowded for my tastes. Plus, everyone is bigger than me. You probably figured out I'm a lanky, skinny guy just by the tone of this blog anyway.
Yukio Mishima wrote in Sun and Steel:
I had always felt that such signs of physical individuality as a bulging belly (sign of spiritual sloth) or a flat chest with protruding ribs (sign of an unduly nervous sensibility) were excessively ugly
And to my observation, I've found that he's right. Skinny people tend to be nerdy and nervous. Fat people tend to be nerdy and lazy. And ugly.
promises
A promise I made with myself was to accept who I was and not force change. But the depressing words are chasing me back into the recesses of my mind. You can just see it with the frequency I post to this blog. Constantly reminding myself to treat myself a bit nicer.
And the idea that judgement of myself will only continue to torturous path of never-ending judgement. And that to stop the judgement, is to focus on the here and now. To render the thinker still and to be completely enveloped within the moment.
But, I find myself a bit depressed with my body. Walking into the gym. Embarassed even. How everyone is so much bigger than I am.
Theory and Practice
Y'know, for a armchair philosopher I talk a lot about theory. But when I see the state of affairs in my own life, it feels as if I've vastly misjudged how useful knowledge is.
Knowing the right course of action is one thing. Your body following it is another.
Knowing the benefits of a non-judgemental mindset is great. But being non-judgemental is a different beast entirely.
Oh, how I want to yell at the sky. Please Oh God, give me a working body and mind! One that will do as I say! But oh the so heartless God, responds with a defeaning silence. One that makes me wonder if even the stars are real...
Men
I'm physically unable to keep up with most men. I'm unathletic. And that quite frankly makes me sad. A lot of male socialization revolves around activities. Physical activities in particular.
It's been this way since I was a young toddler. Like the higher power decided to give me a frail body from birth to punish me and isolate me from the rest.
When I was in junior high, I was on the tennis team for a year. I hated tennis. But I joined anyway for my father's sake. He loved tennis.
I was bullied and picked on. Nobody really liked having me around. Maybe I gave off a negative energy? Or maybe I was to nervous to be competitive at anything. Needless to say I didn't join the next year.
Sigh
I don't know why those memories are coming back to me. Apologies. I really don't mean to bring people down. And I really don't mean to bring myself down. Geez. I don't know what I'm typing anymore.
But it's not like I can just magically put on pounds of muscle. I've already tried. My body just resists getting larger for whatever genetic reason. Maybe it's not as responsive to training as for the majority of people.
But you know that rant I wrote about free will? I don't really know for certain I'm genetically below average. Maybe that year of training I did was just a fluke. Shouldn't I just believe I still have a shot?
Three Days of Happiness
God. FUCK. I'm frustrated again. I've got to believe in myself. Even if nobody knows I exist. Even if everything comes crashing down.
I'm frustrated towards the world because I think I'm entitled to a happy life. Oh, how mistaken I am. Now the frustrations point inwards...
There's only one me. I've got to keep on going.
I can do this. I can live a life. Even if it'll just be me in this life. I can live it.
I'm just a person. Fuck.
