6/18/2017
Well-adjusted

I probably shouldn't be writing this in a public space. I mean, perhaps some prospective employer has gone looking my name up (in the off chance I have not been blacklisted by every self-respecting company for some reason) and sees this blog. I have done a terrible job managing my personal online footprint. So he'll stumble upon this and realize I'm not the man for the job because of what I'm going to write, or have written, on here.

But whatever. Here goes.

I am terrible with change.

Particularly, I am not good with adjusting. But then, perhaps "not good" is not the right term. I can still adjust. I do. If I didn't, man, that would make me a really bad person, yes? But then, you'll think I'm not good with adjusting anyway. You'll say I don't do it fast enough. You'll say I would've been left behind by now. You'll call it a weakness, leave it at that, leave me at that.

I have never really been good with change. (I'll stick to your terms for now.) I'm not good with massive upheavals. I'm not good with drastic shifts. No matter what it is, I will have to ease myself into it. It may take days, months, even years, but I will have to ease myself into it no matter what it takes. But I will get there, somehow, perhaps against some fragment of my will - but I will get there.

But, of course, that never sits well with any of you. I know the world moves at breakneck speed - and how come none of you have died yet? - and supposedly that means we should be able to adjust immediately. Get up on your feet in nanoseconds, move on in nanoseconds. Plot your next move in an instant, if you haven't plotted them yet - and ideally you should have. If plan A is a dead end, go for plan B. You must have a plan B by now. You know, this world is ruthless and all that, every moment you spend contemplating is a moment you yield your opponents and all that.

Everybody seems to have gotten the memo. I often feel surrounded by people who are always on the lookout for that next step, no matter if it's a plank, a pebble or a colleague's face. Grab that opportunity the first moment you get it. Adjust. Don't think. You should have thought it through. Adjust.

Well, I'm not like that.

Prospective employers, you can stop reading now. You'll already have the information you need - why waste time wondering if I'm worth it? You should've made your minds up by now, right?

Are they gone? Go away. Shoo.

I am terrible with change. And I say this as a person who's seen many major upheavals in my life, upheavals that have, after years, made me a cynical, occasionally faux-suicidal fellow. I spent eight years of my life in a small private school at the other end of my subdivision, and suddenly I'm in a big school where I'm in one of ten freshman sections. And everybody made fun of me. The only friend I made on the first day of class turned his back on me four days later. "They're making fun of me too," he said, a day before he started making fun of me, too. Three months of that, and I was the one kicked out on the first offense. Looking back, they made it look like a mercy killing of sorts.

That was sixteen years ago. I have never moved on past that. A lot has happened in that time, sure. I graduated from college, got three jobs, got into a relationship, defying all those odds. (There are a lot of other upheavals too, and I don't want to talk about those. Still in progress.) But I have never moved on past that. I have always thought I'm eternally stuck in a high school mindset, mistrusting of people, like those kids at that "no-bullying" school who ganged up and made fun of me because, I don't know. I really don't know. I must have stuck out like a sore thumb. While I eased myself into the concept of having a locker in my school, they decided I can never fit in.

Sure, perhaps everybody is stuck in a high school mindset, considering how some form gangs to gang up on others that don't fit their image of what's good. But when they do it. somehow, it's acceptable. I don't get it.

I am terrible with change, but it's not as if I don't deal with it. I think that's a misconception. I take a while, depending on the circumstances, but it's not as if I want the world to stop changing. I'll get tired of reading the same stories, if that was the case. I wait every month for a magazine to arrive at my doorstep. I have a subscription. I move on. But then again, the world moves at breakneck speed - how the hell none of you are dead yet? Your fucking necks should have been broken by now. Is it me? is it a problem with me? Am I supposed to be dead now? Am I actually dead now? I might as well, yes? Because I'm a guy who does not adjust at your preferred pace. I've been left behind. The proof is in all your social media posts, all the adventures you've had, all the things you've enjoyed, all because you didn't think - err, because you have thought all of it through.

Still, your fucking necks should have been broken by now.

I've always wondered what "well-adjusted" means. You know, they always use it in literature. "He's a well-adjusted boy," they say, and yes, I'm probably thinking of a Dickensian novel, or something along those lines. He's well-adjusted. Does that mean he's gone through a lot? Has he figured out how to deal with all those things, or is he just now able to conform with everybody else's expectations? Why won't he talk about those things?

And your responses...

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