Asking For a Hand

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Can you help me? Will you help me? Are you able to help me?

Help?

There are so many people throughout the world from all different walks of life who are in need of aid in their own darkest hours. The world is becoming an increasingly dark place to live in. We, as human beings, should always strive to help those in need, and if we are semi-decent individuals, we do try to assist anyone who may need require aid. It is the only way we can even come close to trying to improve the various ills that occur everywhere in the world. If we have a heart, we will help a needing a hand. It is absolutely as simple as this.

What about when we are on the other end of this?

We are great at offering help, but we often feel so very shameful when we are in the position of needing to ask for help. It is so easy to offer help to those other people in need, but what about when that person is us? What are we supposed to do when we are riding the struggle bus hard and cannot overcome whatever obstacle we are facing at any given time?  How do we hand our darkest hour when the clock strikes the time?

Basically, how do we ask for help when we need it?

Right now, I am obsessed with this British show on Netflix called Embarrassing Bodies, where citizens of Great Britain visit three different doctors with various medical issues and abnormalities. Each episode is devoted to a common issue that almost everyone or a large amount of people deal with and the various ailments that people suffer from. They meet with various citizens in whatever town they arrive in, and they help diagnose, treat, and discuss all of the medical issues people are too embarrassed to discuss even with their normal general practitioner.

They offer help and assistance to the various citizens because the citizens themselves are too embarrassed and/or prideful to ask for help.

I’m sort of in a similar boat right now. I don’t have any physical ailments right now, but I am embarrassed to admit that I need a little help getting through a rough patch in my life. Every now and again, though I have not yet figured out exactly why, I get a little sad. A job I applied to rejected me, or my current job is stressing me out. I am stressed out about the news of the world. Any or none of those things can get me stressed out. I do not have a clue. I just know one thing.

I am sad, and I need help cheering myself up.

Right now, a friend from high school is taking pity on me and offers to spend an evening after work with me to hang out and catch up. I don’t want to ask for the help, but I will take it if it is offered.

I need a little help from friends.

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Embarrassing Bodies

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Well, I did not expect to learn this much about the male anatomy.

This has been an eye opening thirty minutes.

I try to exercise every single day for thirty minutes. It keeps me active now that I am no longer doing any sort of sport on a consistent basis, and I get a discount on my health insurance as long as I exercise at least three days a week. My workouts always occur at night because I absolutely prefer to sleep in as late as humanely possible before I would be late for work and get fired. I alternate between working out on the elliptical at the gym and staying home to walk or job on the treadmill. On the days I go to the gym, I usually end watching whatever football game is on that night or half watch one of those cheesy sitcoms on ABC. When I stay at home, I usually turn the television towards me and put on Netflix. On this particular treadmill evening, my selection proved to be quite open and eyeopening.

The show? Embarrassing Bodies. The episode I chose to watch? It is all about men and their various health concerns.

It may seem quite childish, but I watched this out of curiosity. On a talk show in the UK, an American actress mentioned watching this television program and remarked that it seemed to be all about penises and men showing off their genitals. She could not contain her giggles as she tried to explain to the host and other guests what this show was supposed to be about. Seeing the show pop up on my list of suggested shows that I may like, I could not help but select the show and find the exact episode she was describing as I was in need of a good laugh that she was having.

It started out as childish curiosity and a potential chance to giggle, and I ended up glued to the screen genuinely intrigued by all of the different medical issues and how they affect day to day life.

This show seems to be such a good, positive documentary into what our bodies are about and that we should not be embarrassed to talk about the weird quirks of our bodies to our medical doctors. This will help us to improve and better live health and productive lives.

Though I am a bit embarrassed. I need to see a doctor myself.

Technically, I do see a doctor on a regular basis. It just so happened to be a doctor that focuses mostly on the dental region of my body. I have terrible teeth, so that always became the medical priority for me. Other than that, I have always been in the best of health. I used to get sick a lot when I was really little, but now I rarely seem to catch more than a cold or two a year if that. I guess I am afraid that the doctor will find something should I go.

Why be embarrassed?

A Flag on the Play

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…and he is going to run it in for a touchdown. The crowd goes wild until a yellow object finds itself on the ground a few yards from the end zone.

Oh, there is a flag on the play, and the touchdown is taken away thanks to some sort of foul on the play.

I am currently watching a professional football game between the Cincinnati Bengals and the Pittsburg Steelers. As an Indianapolis Colts fan, I have no real stake in this game. I’m just bored and have nothing else to watch on television at the moment. I have a basic understanding on how a football game is supposed to work, and the teams that are playing are actually decent enough to make for a good evening of football viewing. I have been trying to just casually watch this game as I type up my daily blog post, but my eyes have been glued to the screen as I watch the action of the football field unfold violently.

This is an insanely dirty game.

Two men have been taken away on boards, strapped and immobilized, and one of them apparently cannot feel their legs. He may actually be paralyzed. There have been multiple personal foul penalties for unnecessary roughness in this game alone, and the roughness has indeed been completely unnecessary. Even worse, the game is currently tied up, which means there will likely be more of these stupid penalties to come no matter who wins this dirty game. Yesterday, a guy got a concussion from a late and very much unnecessary hit. The play was over, but another player on the defense let their anger get the better of them and now has to deal with a suspension as a result.  Even worse, one player received a thirty thousand dollar fine from shoving a referee during an altercation on the field. He was not even playing at the time. He literally jumped off of the bench to get involved in the fray that was unfolding.

Listen, I understand this game gets a little physical, but this is getting incredibly ridiculous.

I have not always had a fascination with football. As a former member of the marching band, football was just that thing that happened in between performances. I sat in the benches or on the sideline waiting for my time to run back and forth across the field. Once my time on the field had come to an end, I decided I needed to learn what my performance field was actually supposed to be used for. I began to learn what it was that one needed to get a first down. I learned what was considered a fair catch. More importantly, I learned all the different dirty hits that could get players in serious trouble on the field.

Dear God, I never got that violent on the field.

Still, I never got the urge to elbow someone in the face so badly that they received a concussion or paralysis.

Swipe Left

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Please swipe left…or right, which ever one is the one that means you like me.

I hate being single.

I am twenty-seven years old, and I have been single for twenty-seven years. Not once have I been in a relationship of a romantic nature with anyone. I have never had a boyfriend and have never once been someone girlfriend. Hell, I’ve never even kissed anyone on the lips. I am living the movie Never Been Kissed. My relationship status has always been single and solo, and it absolutely sucks.

My single status is not for lack of trying.

Calling me a late bloomer, but I’ve never really come anywhere close to finding what writers like Shakespeare would call love. In terms of love, I am still a seed that has not even come close to taking root. Guys do not even take a single glance in my direction, though everyone in my live just says I am completely oblivious to all of those types of things and that guys do in fact flirt with me. In addition, I never really tried to seek out a relationship, so I never learned how to try be in a relationship.

It has been like this for years.

While other girls were dreaming of a white wedding, I was dreaming of being a rock star writer living in London.  That was my dream when I was little and while this has changed over the years, my interest in falling in love never sparked. Sure I would find certain celebrities attractive and would have crushes on classmates, but it never really went much further than that. I lived by my ambitions. I wanted to get solos in chorus and wanted to make the school’s talent show. I wanted friends to hang out with. Finding Mr. Right just was not a priority for me growing up.

Nowadays, I’d give the world and then some to find a guy I can walk down the aisle

Like I said, I had no real interest in pursuing a relationship for years. Now, as I approach the end of my twenties, I would love to find love. The problem with this new found desire is that I have absolutely no idea how to find a fella, how to pursue him, how to sustain a relationship, and how to stay interest. I am basically like a teenager at a middle school dance. I stay in the corner of the gymnasium and watch all of the other people my age dancing with their romantic partners. I have no idea what I am supposed to do, so it is probably a good thing that I have no romantic suitors.

 

Maybe it’s just me.

I try to be really interesting and attractive. I dress well, put on the right amount of makeup, and try to be an agreeable person, but maybe I am just unattractive. Maybe I was not put on the earth to find a lover of my own. I don’t know.

I just want somebody to love.

To Forget

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I remember that, but I wish I didn’t.

Ever have this feeling?

It is the Winter Holiday season, and it is a time for everyone acknowledge individuals other than ourselves . Now is the time when we remember our loved ones and what they did for us and what they may have have done to us. For some, remembering the other people in our lives is a good and easy thing. We easily remember those who have helped us through the years. For others, all we can think about are those who have wounded us throughout the years of our life. Normal people tend to remember both the good people and the bad people in our lives. In addition, there are a lot of us who remember both of these types of people and do not know what do during this particular time of year with so many people to acknowledge and forget.

This is an extremely weird time of year for anyone.

We try to remember those whom we love during this season, but how do we handle those who have done us harm throughout the past three-hundred sixty-five days? When this time of year where we are supposed to be buying gifts for those who have treated us with kindness, how do we begin to handle those who have not acted kindly towards us throughout the year? Especially, how are we to begin to handle those who have who have been  cruel towards us throughout the year when they normally are aspects of absolute strength for us?

How do we begin to forget?

Not every memory is a pleasant one, even when the people who are the actors in our memories used to taken on the roles of the heroes of the seasons for us. Maybe they are people who treated us kindly in high school and now are treating us like we are lower than garbage

I do not know.

Call Me Miss Lonely

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It is finally Friday. I am young, well under thirty at least. I am single and completely unattached to anyone. I am highly educated and have so much knowledge I can share with the world. There is no work for me to do tomorrow, and I can do absolutely anything I would like to do with all of my free time for the weekend.

I am sitting at home alone in my pajamas, drinking a beer, and nibbling on some left over Chinese food

I am pathetic.

Most people my age are either married and having babies or on the upward journey of their career. I’ve been to a couple of weddings for people from my graduating class, seen a few live a life of crime, seen some of my school peers change jobs all across the country, and others are going out a partying every night like they are still in their late teens and early twenties. They have been living a thousand lifetimes over the decade since we collected our high school diplomas in the auditorium of the middle school.

Me? I am basically moving at the pace of a glacier.

In high school, I was never without something to do, somewhere to go, and someone to hang out with. I joined up with my high school color guard in the spring of my final year in middle school. From the end of eighth grade to the fall semester my senior year of my undergraduate years in college, I always had somewhere to go on the weekends. There was always practice where I interacted with other people or games and shows that I needed to perform at. In addition, I made friends with a lot of the people I was performing with in marching band, color guard, and in chorus. We hung out, and I actually felt like I had real friends.

Then, I graduated high school and stopped singing in chorus, moved away to go to college two hours from home and stopped seeing my normal friends, finished up with marching band, and stopped spinning in color guard, and I stopped having somewhere to go.

I don’t know if I always had a touch of social anxiety, but I never really noticed until I was no longer always around people. Once my final season of marching band had ended, I had nowhere else to go, so I went nowhere. Perhaps my fears became amplified because I did not have to see my fear everyday. I did not have to face my fear, so it became more scary. All I know is that I am now often on my own.

Life had gotten pretty lonely.

I still people I consider friends from time to time. We try to make dinner plans and catch the latest movie from time to time, but it is kind of weird now that we are adults.  We make small talk like strangers when we used to joke and fight like siblings.

I am lonely.

Too Much

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Another day has come and gone, and we are finally at the end of the work week and the end of the month of November.

I will be terribly honest. I have no idea what to write about.

It seems like I have exhausted every type of topic one can think of writing about over the course of the last too weeks, and I do not want to repeat myself. I’m not going to talk about being sick as I have already wasted about a week’s worth of blog posts to complaining about that, and I’m no longer sick. I am not going to waste five hundred words on the latest sex scandals because it should be understood to keep one’s hands to themselves, even though no one seems to want to remember that. Forget writing about anything remotely related to the circus that is American politics. I do not know exactly what is happening with that mess, and I am too tired to even begin to try or care even if I probably should. It is all too much.

You know what? Let me rephrase that earlier statement. I have run out of things to talk or write about.

Writer’s block is a terrible thing. Normally, writer’s block happens for me when I do not have a clue on what I should be writing about. Either the topic is non-existent and I am stuck trying to fluff out what would normally be about one hundred words into five hundred, or I have no single clue on how I am supposed to write about a topic. This time around, I am pretty stuck regarding my writing because there is just too much to talk about. Everything seems to be happening all at once in the world, and I do not even know what I should be devoting my time to in terms of writing. The material is there, and I know how to write about each topic. I just have not figured out which topic I should devote my writing time to, and it is driving me crazy.

Is it still writer’s block if you cannot write because there is too much to write about?

Writers thrive on inspiration. How can one write, write well anyway, if they do not have a single thing they can write about? When I normally have writer’s block, I am usually uninspired. Nothing that is happening in the world seems to be sparking an interest for me, and I do not find anything worthy of devoting my time to.

This is new.

Nowadays, there seems to be everything happening all the time. It should be so easy to find a topic to ramble on about in a humble blog post for about five hundred words, but here I am. I am completely stuck as to what would actually be worth wasting an hour or two writing on. There is just too much going on for me to focus.

I just spent five hundred words complaining.