Generalized Anxiety Disorder ... We Hateses Itttt

Yeah, so, I've definitely failed at some daily adult living skills in the last few months as it pertains to my career. I've really REALLY let the ball plummet when it comes to my day job, and my day job boss called me on it. I had no choice but to admit it to myself and come to a decision.

In the past, I would have tucked my tail and ran. I would have shriveled under the disapprovement with self-loathing and an abysmal sense of doom. I would have beaten myself up worst than if I were wearing red in a Crips' neighborhood.

But I've learned a lot. And I have to say I've learned it through therapy. The therapy that I give to other people. Because I've started to listen to myself. I've come away from sessions shaking my head and wondering how it is that I can dispense such counsel to others and not myself. How can I teach couples how to fight when I've been running away from relationships in terror of conflict? How can I counsel men about commitment when I've never been successful at it myself? How can I counsel people how to combat anxiety when I've been ruled by it?

These damn meds seem to give me the ability to practice what I preach. Without that feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach, I've been able to override self-condemnation and the long practiced coping mechanism of hiding my head in the nearest sand dune, thereby letting the world pass on--something I've done "successfully" for 38 years. As in successfully never learning how to kiss passionately, let alone learn how to make love. While this is only an aspect of social functioning and not the entirety of it, I'm going to say that I have been suffering from Generalized Anxiety Disorder because it did disable me from operating in normal society. Ask anyone if it's normal to be a 44-year old virgin. See what answer you get.

So now the time for nevers is finished. I'm on the other side of the summit now. I've got the key and I've tested it out in the lock. And it works. I can chat up a fairly desirable woman. I can curry her favor to meet me at a party. And I sure will ask her out to somewhere else when the party ends. For food, dessert, or just kissing lessons.

And to bookend this post properly, I can own up to my mistakes at work and not be ready to hand in my resignation. I can continue working with the knowledge that I screwed up, and even parry with my boss' extreme displeasure and disappointment in me. If he fires me, then I get fired. Problem solved. Mea culpa, man. I get what I get. NYC-bound careers here I come. But if my boss wants to accept my apology and let me move on and correct my laziness, my disfocus, my poorly handled juggle of two careers--

--then let's do this.

It may have taken me 44 years to realize (minus the obligatory 18 years of honorary childhood), but I'm a grown-ass man.

Time to act like one.

And This Just In From The "Stranger Than Life, Series 8000" Dept ...

You guys know this, right? You've partied to it in your own wonderful ways, and so have I. It was created in Jan 2004. It's been a constant joy of my life.

Tonight, while chatting with a fellow comics' geek that I met at my hangout at Geek Central, I discover HE IS THE ONE WHO CREATED THIS VIDEO. This guy who I only in the last few months have come to know as a peripheral geek buddy who wanted to chat with me is the creator of something I have been using to salvage my worst moods for FOUR YEARS NOW, and have posted at the bottom of this blog right here now for HOW LONG? Tonight I'm chatting with him and he casually mentions, "oh yeah, but the way, this is my Five Minutes of Fame...", and sends me the link. In fact, I'm still chatting with him now.

This has been a monumental day.

If this can happen, right here, right now--that I would ACCIDENTALLY cross intimate paths with the creator of my favorite YouTube video EVER, how much more possible is it that I can meet ... Her?

I mean, come on.