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I’m sitting here on the couch with the television off, the radio off, the laptop on mute, left with just the sounds of my own thoughts and some unmentionable bodily sounds coming from my two beagles.  Just to confirm the sounds are actually coming from them and I am not using them to cover up my own unmentionable sounds.  My lovely wife is at work and my little man asleep in his bed after a story book and three horribly sung songs’ by yours truly.

I know who I am.  Eleven letters but they truly make a profound statement.  How many people can sit down and tell me who they are?  How do I know who I am?  I have the ability to sit down and get lost within my own thoughts analyzing desires, needs, wants, happiness, sadness and I don’t need to repost someone else’s thoughts on Facebook because I don’t have my own.  I am a “Recovering Depressed Fat Addict” and I am satisfied with that.  I will not pretend what I am not as that is a disservice to me.

Why do so many people avoid their own thoughts?  Why is it most people “need” to drive with the radio on?  Sit at home with the TV on?  Sit at home or anywhere there is Wi-Fi to play mindless games on the computer?  Just this week I have heard from individuals who tell me that they are so busy and overwhelmed that they need the TV, music, or computer just to do mindless activities and relax so they can do it all again tomorrow.  I find this shocking because if you begin to talk to all these people, they are so busy staying busy they don’t know who they are.  They cannot answer basic questions about themselves or where they want to go in their lives.  It is scary that the busier and more complex society becomes the less we actually think internally.

I can sit here and think that I became a food addict early on for a variety of reasons but I don’t blame others for them.  Nobody made me buy chips, dip, Wendy’s combos or that plate of nachos when I was out.  Nobody came into my house and forced me to eat goodies late at night while I was in my bedroom.  I have depression and anxiety from the genetics I received.  At no time does this give me an excuse to blame others, society, or feel sorry for myself.  Everybody in life is dealt a certain hand to play with and many, many, people were dealt far worse hands than I was, yet these people still made their lives a success.

I love libraries and to read a lot and learn new things.  I don’t want to take everything I have an interest in and get a PhD as it would take the enjoyment out of it for me.  I love to have great discussion with others but only with others that can understand both sides of a discussion.  A person who say dumb things like we will have to agree to disagree tell’s me that you only see one side of an argument.  People who tell me that they will fall asleep as opposed to just sitting with their own thoughts scare me because they don’t know who they are, where they are going, and fear their own mind.

As I get older and raise my son I realized that I am less afraid to make mistakes.  I want him to realize it is okay to make mistakes and learn from them, not to make excuses for them.  I want him to learn that you can enjoy life without having to make everyone happy.  I want him to realize that if he knows who he is and what he wants out of life the right people will show up to support and love him.  I will teach him the world has many people screaming out about what there is to be afraid of, but that life is truly a beautiful place when you cut through the noise.  Lastly, I want him to know that his decisions need only to be true to his heart which will allow him to always know who he is.