Tag Archives: Sadness

The 54th Deadline: The Weight of the Matter

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The 54th Deadline: Life’s always going to give you another chance if you’re constantly persistent.
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Life certainly has been hard for me these past few weeks. It took a death of a coworker to force me to rethink everything.

Something I wanted to do because of my coworker’s death was attempt dieting again. Let’s just say I have been having second thoughts about it. But hear me out.

You see, in a nutshell, I have never been super fit before in my life. I have been at best marginally in OK shape when I participated in a few sports back in high school. Otherwise, I was either pretty skinny and then eventually on the pudgy side.

At the moment, I have put on a few pounds compared to what I was even half a year ago since moving into this town. Then again, I got kicked out from where I was living before and I spent a few months unemployed, starving and then eventually eating like crazy due to stress. It was no surprise it would affect my weight on the scale after a while.

But in regards to the diet, I attempted going back to a diet I tried successfully a long time ago. It really did work, as I lost 30 pounds after committing to it for 10 whole weeks. However, stupid stuff happened, which ended up sending me to the emergency room.
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The 54th Deadline: Death’s Reminder

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The 54th Deadline: Life’s always going to give you another chance if you’re constantly persistent.
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Life, you really want to keep tacking on once again another catalyst, another wake-up call for me, to get into action. Don’t you? Don’t you?!

So yesterday at work, I found out a coworker of mine literally died. Straight up, he died the other night.

I worked with this coworker just last weekend, and now he is gone. Needless to say, I was pretty rattled yesterday.

Though I was not great friends with him by any means, I thought my coworker was a good guy. He worked hard and always had a great attitude about everything. Outside from the restaurant, I didn’t know much about him. I knew he had a bit of trouble with the law, but he clearly was getting his act together for a long while.

Like me, he was on his own respective journey to salvage his life.

Such a shame. Such a shame.

Life certainly is too short. We take it for granted, and then poof! It ends.

You don’t think about death until it pops up out of the blue. For the past day, I have thought about my own mortality. Have I done enough with my own existence?

Ultimately, I have concluded a startling “no” at this point in the game.

I have not done enough. Continue reading

The 54th Deadline: Waiting in the Darkness

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The 54th Deadline: Life’s always going to give you another chance if you’re constantly persistent.
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For five years and counting, I have been waiting in my own perpetual darkness. At one point, I feared for the worst when my world crumbled around me, and I couldn’t help but “run away” from my insecurities and problems instead of facing them directly like a courageous person.

Alas, I was a weak individual. A scaredy-cat. Insert whatever negative word. It doesn’t matter.

The point is, ultimately, I ran away to hide from my problems. Much like a child who hides under their blanket when they get scared, I hid underneath a security blanket called cowardice.

I was hoping the spooky stuff would magically go away, It didn’t. Instead, things grew more and more intense as time went on, which elevated my dilemma into a personal, full-blown disaster.

So I moped away in my own darkness, letting it consume me from within until I had enough of it.

I waited like the problems could go away on their own if I endured, thinking perhaps light would come shining in to illuminate the right path before me. Eventually. Eventually, I kept thinking.

It didn’t happen like that. Not quite, anyway.

Don’t get me wrong. When you’re a depressed mess, things just get to you. I certainly had my share of self-defeating thoughts that could last me a lifetime.

But after a while, you get weary of the constant negativity. You want to squelch all of the, “It’s never going to get better” remnants floating around in your mind. In their place, you have to scrape up some sense of hope, some sense of optimism that things will in fact improve.

And they have for me, albeit slowly. Everything has been a gradual crawl, but hey … at least it’s in the right direction!

To wait in this darkness for so long, one must think I am nuts, right?
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Everyday NhanSense – Day 101


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Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.

Day 101’s Topic: Dark spirits.
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Whether you believe in the spiritual hoopla or not, I feel there are days where “dark spirits” reside within my body. At least, I like to think it’s some kind of malevolent force that hinders me from where I need to be in life as a person.

I don’t know. There are moments where I feel my very soul as a person is being tainted by something scary, but I don’t know if it’s just my own imagination or if I am just that much of a wreck upstairs.

Regardless, I want to figure out what the heck is wrong with me. Continue reading

Everyday NhanSense – Day 48

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Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.

Day 48’s Topic: Crying.
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I don’t cry very often. Correction: it’s more like it’s hard for me to as an adult.

I know it’s probably because I am a guy, and with that social stigma looming that says that guys can’t cry, I probably am conscious of keeping my eyes dry no matter how sad I get.

Allow me to explain. I can say with complete and earnest truth that I am not a crybaby, at least in the sense that I do not outright bawl my eyes out very often, if at all. So physically on the outside, I have not let the waterworks come rushing down the cheeks if I can help it.

Now excluding being a baby and a young toddler (every little kid cries, after all), I will admit I was a bit of a wimp at a young age. I do recall crying and hiding behind my mom when I entered first grade and such, but these kind of moments are common and not that big of a deal.

However, I do remember other key moments in my life where crying meant something more.

For instance, one particular memory came back to me out of the blue today when I was waiting at the bus stop. It’s a very random one, so bear with me.

It was late at night, probably 7 or 8 p.m. or so. I was riding my bike around, just playing near the garage when I was like maybe third grade, give or take a grade. I just remember my dad having a mood swing, yelling and spouting something that got me really upset. Like, really, and I do mean really, upset to the point where I bolted off on my bike and rode around the neighborhood for like a good half an hour or so.

He said something in the vein of you are worthless, you aren’t good at anything … blah, blah, blah …

Basically, it rattled me. I was literally still in elementary school. What else was I supposed to think or do?

I rode away fast on my bike and started crying. I didn’t want to let my dad or anyone else see me. Not my mom. Not my brothers. Not the neighbors. No one. Continue reading

Everyday NhanSense – Day 18

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Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.

Day 18’s Topic: Wealth.
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For the past two months, I have experienced a first-hand understanding of the meaning of wealth. Or in my case, the lack of … Needless to say, it’s obviously better to be wealthy than it is to be poor.

I am someone who grew up on the poor side of things as a kid along with my two younger brothers. My parents never had a lot of money between the two of them, but they sure tried their best to provide what they could. I remember my dad commuting all the way from Washington to Idaho to work at some crummy factory. He would leave early in the morning, and then he would make his way back home at night, often tired and crabby because he had to do it again throughout the rest of the week.

My mom always had some kind of cleaning job and usually a restaurant gig on the side as a waitress. That’s basically all she really knew how to do.
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Everyday NhanSense – Day 8


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Everyday NhanSense: Each day, I will blog about something that comes to mind. My goal is to practice writing about my hobbies, my interests, my opinions and so forth.

Day 8’s Topic: Finding hope.
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I have to say that I am happy to be blogging again for this past week. It has made me feel a lot better when I can express some of my excess emotions through this creative outlet. It’s just pleasant to write again. And I do mean this with complete sincerity.

When I graduated from college years ago, I wanted to be a journalist. My dream job was just to work in a newsroom setting of sorts. Of course, in retrospect, it was not the wisest decision to major in something that was, though not being faded out or anything, in the process of being restructured. The demand for a traditional journalist has shifted, and thus the amount of available of jobs are limited to say the least.

When any random person can be their own pseudo-journalist with their phones and other gadgets these days, the need for a regular journalist isn’t quite the same as it was even a decade ago. Nonetheless, I like to think that life has pushed me toward a different direction for some time now. It just doesn’t seem like it’s in the stars for me to become a typical journalist anytime soon, and I am fine with this.

But, of course, things have been scary in the meantime. Transitions are always difficult for me. I have a tricky time adapting to change, but life has thrown me into a situation where I have to rethink my plan of attack or I won’t survive. Plain and simple.

It has turned into a daily routine of somehow scraping up some gumption and looking for some kind of hope … just some kind of inkling that things will work out in due time.
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