You Wouldn’t Like Me

There’s this Tegan and Sara song I really love called You Wouldn’t Like Me.” 

 

Part of it goes like this:

“There’s a war inside of me 

Do I cause new heartbreak to write a new broken song? 

Do I push it down or let it run me right in to the ground? 

I feel like I wouldn’t like me if I met me. 

Sunshine is days away 

I won’t be saved

I know all the words 

I can’t say that I’ll love you forever 

I won’t say that I love you forever” 

 

I relate to it a lot, although maybe not for the very same reasons as the speaker.

I’ve spoken about love and how I’m learning to be better at loving others. I even recently wrote a post about how I’m feeling more confident about undertaking what seems like this goliath task. I spoke about how even if you feel like you don’t know what you’re doing when loving and being there for others, trying your best is half the work so there’s no use sitting there, just go for it. Which is true.

It’s really important to not let hesitation get in your way, or you will just be one more dumbie in the world twiddling their thumbs and being upset that no one will love them properly even though they barely put in any effort themselves.

I find that as I move forward with this philosophy I’m still not perfect. Which is no surprise. I won’t ever be, but never have I felt further from it.

For the most part, instead of stopping before I start, I’m stopped dead in my tracks in the process. Sure, I can push myself to make an attempt, to try my best even, but it’s like I fall short eight times out of ten. Actually, that’s not entirely accurate. It’s not necessarily that I fail in the attempt. More like while going about my life relating to people on a mundane level, I seem to spot more and more flaws that will make loving and supporting people on a deeper level impossible.

I’ve stopped saying “I can’t say that I’ll love you forever. I won’t say that I’ll love you forever,” but sometimes it’s still hard to swallow that fear that I won’t be able to.

People say that if you fear you can’t love it’s most likely because you fear you yourself are unlovable. That’s true, but it’s not quite the case with me.

I know I’m lovable. I don’t lack self worth. In fact I’m probably a little stuck up in that regard. I’m confident in most of my abilities. And blessedly, it’s obvious people in my life love me. It’s more along the lines of me just thinking it’s sad that they do, because I’m not sure I can do justice to loving them back. 

I was talking to my father the other day about how he needs to be careful how he comes off to people when he talks to them. That while he’s sitting there thinking they’re having a friendly discussion they’re clearly reading it as an unwelcome lecture. He tends to come off as always thinking he’s right, never open to the possibility that others have much to bring to the table. He doesn’t mean to, but he does. I’ve always known he and I are very alike in a lot of ways. Been very wary of it.

I thought I was doing a decent job at not manifesting his worst features. Apparently not. Although I’ve done things like ask my family to let me know any and every time they feel I am being dismissive, to my dismay, the other day my best friend told me the same exact thing I had spent time warning my father of. She might as well have taped recorded my words and fed them back to me on loop. 

Do you know how crappy that feels?

Having gone in to prevent a problem before it happens and then be told you were completely ineffectual?

If people can’t trust me to talk to them in a way that makes them feel heard and valued, how the hell am I going to be there for them when they need me? They won’t come to me when they’re feeling fear or sorrow if they’ve already been run over in areas that don’t even matter as much. I’ve almost completely taken myself out of the equation of their emotional support system. 

That ish hurts to know. It’s all my fears about lack of ability to love realized.

I guess I should say yetLack of ability to effectively love yet, but it’s just really discouraging. Talk about one step forward, six steps back. Although I realize talking about love like it’s a skill is strange.

My best friend also keeps asking me why I don’t let myself cry. I’ve never really been able to articulate it, but I think it’s because of an old fear of the intensity of my emotions. I feel like if I open that door I might not ever stop crying. Or shouting in anger for that matter. I’ve sprinted away from happiness in the past for fear of the possible and very likely sadness it would bring later. I think recently I thought I could run towards happiness without embracing the melancholy and rage as well.  I knew in my head that wasn’t possible, but I think my heart needed to believe that for a while in order to start walking.  Reality is hitting hard.

There’s this weird thing that my body does where I tear up when I laugh. Whereas most people only do that when they’re having an intense bout of laughter, I do it pretty often. It’s like all my emotions only come in one variety: Intense. There have been a few times when I was laughing especially hard that it’s devolved into tears of grief. Very suddenly and uncontrollably. I’m talking, looking like a madwoman, I’ve started completely balling, unable to keep the saltwater from spilling across my grinning face.  Has that ever happened to you? The edges of my happiness come crashing against the jagged corners of my sadness, eager to find a way out in tidal wave fashion.

I should probably not let that ish boil up and over like that…

The answer to the question in the song at the beginning of this post is, I should “let it run me right into the ground.” My emotions, that is. It’s the right thing to do in order to live a life genuinely and worthwhile. It’s just so scary. I think there’s a part of me that whole-bloody-heartedly believes that if I do I will combust into a ball of flame and disappear.

Which maybe wouldn’t be so bad.

 

There’s another Tegan and Sara song I love in which the speaker promises a loved one:

“I won’t make all of your love so scared to come through our yard 

I won’t scream in my head and let it isolate me”  

 

My chant is the same for all the people I love. I just pray I can kick my butt into reaching that goal sooner rather than later. I’m so sick of myself. It feels burdensome to ask you to put up with me too, even if I do have things to offer in unemotional arenas. As usual, it’s not quite enough. 

~LDA

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Knowing That You Know

I’ve been on this weird journey of learning how to interact with others on a meaningful level.

At first, I thought it was a problem of not knowing how to trust people.Which wasn’t wrong,since the reason I’ve never really had close relationships with people outside my family is because from a young age I didn’t trust humans to be genuine enough to be bothered with. The vast majority of people are busy putting on masks, worn with the simple goal of not feeling silly for being naked in a world full of masqueraders.

Being open and honest about your thoughts and feelings in this world is like being caught with your pants down. 

“GASP. You actually say what you think and express genuine committed emotion for others? What do you think this is?! A burlesque show?”

In reality everyone is jealous of anyone who dares exist in such a way. They wish they would be so bold. Absolutely long for a moment in which they could shed the mask and feel the sunshine of an honest existence on their pallid faces. But they’re too busy protecting themselves from pain, and as long as they do, they will never feel such warmth. Just like in the business world, opportunities are created and not found in the realm of love and relationship. As long as you’re unwilling to risk harm to yourself, chances are, you will only receive as much shadowed, flimsy and lukewarm affection as you give.

There are instances in which one is blessed to receive the open devotion of another without even trying. For example with a parent, or as is depicted over and over again in romance or the very rare friendship-focused films. And so a lot of people choose to wait around for such miracles in which they won’t have to take off their mask to get what they want. Or at least get to wait until it’s safe to take the risk.

Myself included. 

I was really good at the intellectual side of honest living.

After becoming very quickly emotionally jaded, I decided I couldn’t stand myself if I were to transform into a completely tepid person, the very thing I held most contempt and anger for in the world, so I devised a plan in which I would be truthful but safe. I donned a Phantom of the Opera half-disguise, if you will. I’d unleash my logical and intellectual honesty on the world, while still shielding my fragile emotions. 

Those I would hide away. After all, only a fool would remove their beating heart from the safety of the rib cage in a world swarming with vultures. Sure, there are a few idiots wandering around willing to trade pieces. It was not an impossibility to find someone as equally as daring, but why risk it? I’d be more likely to have the life clawed from my bloody hand.

I lived like that for a long time. Miserable, but safe. 

But because I still had half my face revealed, I’d damned myself to a lonely, bitter life. I’d never find comfort in the massive groupthink that poses as genuinely thoughtful expression, or the sweet nothings of a mutually agreed upon lukewarm love arrangement.

It was only because I was blessed enough to have run into one of those gems walking around disguised as idiots, that I pulled myself out of the muck of such a dour life. It took an egregious amount of time, but I learned that it was worth trusting people, even if it doomed you to a lot of pain over your lifetime. 

So it wasn’t untrue. Part of the problem was my trust in others.

But even after getting over that hump, there was still a lot wrong. It wasn’t enough. Even though I had made a decision to start trusting people again, even when no tangible reason for trust is presented, I was still having a lot of trouble putting that into practice and connecting. 

Why was it I still found myself hesitating even though I had made a serious decision to open my heart again?

It took a long time to realize, but it was because I still didn’t trust myself. If just a moment ago in the timeline of my life I had been so steeped in bad decisions to close off my heart, what made me think I was pure enough or had the strength enough to become a person worthy of trust myself? Just like that? Was my decision really enough? Was all it took just a stable resolve?

I’m great at stability. Once I commit to something you can count on it, so I kept telling myself over and over that it was enough. But deep down, I still felt disgusting. Icky. Absolutely unworthy of returning to the loving and open state of being we’re all born in.

I felt unregenerate.

So although my resolve was perhaps admirable, and even solid enough to swear by, I was still crippled by the guilt of my past life. And this manifested itself as hesitation. Even though I was completely willing to share any and all, I felt like I shouldn’t. Not in fear of getting hurt, but in fear of being sniffed out as unsure of myself emotionally. 

I didn’t trust myself to know how to love, even if I knew for sure who I loved. I hadn’t walked the road of emotionality in a long time. Whether it was people I cared for deeply or people I’d just met that I knew were in need of some love, it was extremely difficult for me to wrap my head around what love looked like.

No, that’s not true.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know what it looked like. I knew very well. I just didn’t know if mine was enough, if it would measure up. I still felt tainted. 

These days I’ve reached a point where I know. I know that I know it’s enough. Or at the very least I’ll die trying, and that’ll just have to be enough because there won’t be anything else left to give and that’s all I can do. I’ve finally gotten enough out of my head to take better action, to start banishing the hesitation.

I’m still not that great at it though.

I’m still figuring out how to love people. Especially those who start out as strangers who I have to let in while still maintaining boundaries. I think that’s what I’m worst at going about at this point. Half of the reason is just because I’m a crappy conversationalist. I’m still not that out of my head, so I miss opportunities, with strangers and loved ones alike. Although I’m perceptive in some ways, I’m still pretty dense in a lot of ways.

But I’m working on it.

And out of this will come more stories of my cringe-worthy social existence,

so lucky you.

~LDA

When Problem-Solving Solves Nothing

I am very much like a man when it comes to giving and receiving affection.

Giving me food goes a long way.  Seriously, if you feed me, that’s automatic bonus points and I will begin to love you on some level, even if you’re my arch-nemesis or something.  The saying should be, “The way to Lady’s heart is through her stomach.”  Truer words would have never been spoken.  Ask any of my friends.

On the other hand, when it comes to giving affection I am primarily a task-oriented organism.  If something is wrong in the life of someone I love my immediate thought is, “How can I fix this?”

This gets me into a lot of trouble in life, particularly when it comes to my female loved ones.  I’m a pretty good listening ear, so that gets me about halfway when it comes to humans of the female variety.  But then when it gets to the point where they’re finished talking I’m like, “Okay, go team.  Huddle up.  How can we find a solution to this problem?”

Sometimes that’s super helpful and people will credit me for being such a good problem-solver they can run to.  But other times that response just isn’t appropriate.  The issues of life are not always immediately fixable.  In fact, sometimes they are immediately fixable, but it’s a problem only the person in trouble can solve for themselves.  So I’m left sitting there with my lasso of truth dangling uselessly at my side because it has no villain to latch onto.  I’ll feel helpless, as though I can’t help them and that my role is complete because I can do no more.

The problem with that type of thinking is, even though you can’t always solve your loved ones problems, they don’t always need you to.  Many times they just want you to sit with them while they solve it themselves.

This has been a hard lesson for me to learn.

I’ve failed at it time and time again.  Backing away from a loved one’s situation and leaving them to wrestle with it on their own because, “Well, I’m not doing anything anyway.”

That’s not to say I don’t wave encouragingly on the sidelines cheering them on, checking in every once in a while to see if I can be of assistance at a different point in time, but that isn’t enough.  I’m too far away.  Sometimes people need you to sit right up close to them while they tackle their demons, simply for moral support.

I don’t know why that’s been such a difficult lesson for me to learn.  It’s probably a breed of selfishness.  I feel uncomfortable not being able to do what I do best, (problem solving), so I choose to give them space so I don’t feel like so much of a failure.  It’s hard to watch a loved one in pain and know there’s nothing you can do about it.  But I keep forgetting that being by someone’s side, right up close, is not nothing.  Sometimes it’s the most heroic thing you can do.

 

~LDA

You Hate the People You Love, Just Admit It

People assume that hate is the opposite of love because they are both such extreme emotions, but that is so not the case.

Think of emotions as a spectrum of human experience. On one extreme there is love, conqueror of differences, healer of souls. In the middle there is hate, a twisted form of love. Love gone wrong and dark, if you will.

So then what is on the other extreme?

Well, let’s think about it. The reason why we assume love is on one end of the spectrum is because its affects are so explosive and passionate. “Surely this must be an extreme,”we posit, and correctly so, thus placing it on one end. But then we look at hate and think “Hm, similar affects. Volatile, fiery.” And while that is true, we misunderstand.

An extreme should not be measured by how extreme it is, but by how oppositional it is to its antithesis. If one extreme is the peak of feeling and compulsion, shouldn’t the other be opposite of that? Lack of feeling, disinterest, genuine indifference? This is the reason why in reality it is not hate which is on the other extreme of human experience, but apathy.

The worst thing someone whom you love can say to you is, “I don’t care.”

Not “I hate you.”

At least with hate there is a sense of involvement and clear emotional attachment, even if negatively so. With “I couldn’t care less,” there is an acute sense of loss, a severing of a deep connection. It’s a way of saying, “Depart from me, I never knew you.”

The worst kind of feeling is no feeling, numbness. Whether you’re giving or receiving it.

That’s why depressed people feel they have to do something as drastic as committing suicide. At least then they will finally feel something, even if it is a final something.

Sometimes, people feel worried when they find themselves thinking negative things like, “I really hate you,” when confronted with problems in a relationship. They’ve been told that because they love this person they should never feel anything as extreme as hate towards them. Or maybe they’ve just convinced themselves that this is the case.

Well, take heart! That’s natural.

Sometimes, as human beings we fluctuate towards the middle of our handy dandy spectrum. Conflict has that sort of effect on us. By nature we are weak when we don’t get what we want. Our intense feelings have turned dark and dour. “Wah wah, things aren’t going so well.” But most times the meter floats back to the love zone.  If we’re lucky.

It is only when you start to feel nothing that you should get worried. That means you no longer have any investment in the other individual, or at the very best, you’re on your way to apathy. In which case, your relationship is in great danger. Turn back! Unless you’re involved with an abusive person who you shouldn’t be associating with anyhow. In that case, full speed ahead.

The next time you catch yourself thinking, “Gosh, I really hate you,” about your significant other, sigh and go, “What a relief!”

Because if we’re honest, we all hate those we love just a little bit. At least some of the times. It’s because they hold so much sway over us. That extreme emotion called love has the effect of causing us to relinquish some of our self control to another person. We find ourselves doing things that are not in the least in our favor, except for the fact that it makes the other person happy, which in turn makes us happy. This power over us, though given willingly, has the tendency to make us a little bitter. We humans are really touchy about our autonomy, so we sometimes forget who made the decision to hand some of it over in the first place, once we feel things are not going quite as planned.

We all hate those we love if we’re doing it right. This means we are still invested.

~LDA

Not In Kansas Anymore

I find that these days I am often surprised that I have a reflection. It’s not that I have lost my sense of self. In fact, it is quite the opposite.

Recently I did experience an awakening that made me aware of what a lack of self I had. It’s not that I didn’t have an identity. I did. We all do, it’s how we get around and drink things without people going, “Hey, why’s that coffee mug floating in the air?”

It’s just that the self that I identified with did not match up with my true self enough to ring true.

Haha. That sentence was a mess.

What I’m trying to say is, I had been wearing a mask for so long just to avoid being invisible that I was surprised to discover there was actually a face underneath the mask when I took it off. And even more surprised that I don’t completely hate it.

It was difficult, shedding a mask that I’d worn for so long that it was practically chemically bonded with my skin. It was really difficult. Especially since the mask bore such close resemblance to my real face that I often forgot I was wearing one. Now this is about to sound completely contradictory, but I’m not one to be fake. I’ve hated the idea of posers and fake people since I was young enough to understand how humans often default to interacting with each other. From a very young age I understood that I thought differently from other people in the sense that I saw very little need to put on a show for the sake of reputation. I was what I was and I gave you the option to take it or leave it and that was that. I’ve never wasted my time much with people who wanted me to act a certain way or were obviously preoccupied with having me believe they were a certain way. The idea of relating with such people has always been boring to me. It’s such a false interaction. Why bother with the energy? It’s much more interesting to deal with people who accept the way they are and challenge you to accept it too.

The problem with the identity I had before is that in my attempt to stay as raw as possible I lacked the flexibility to change in response to others. I wanted people to accept the way I was but was quite unwilling to let them affect me in return, which is unfair. I think the reason I became this way is because I had experienced so many exchanges with dishonest people that I had become jaded. I had been let down so many times by the possibility of authentic people that I decided I would force people to accept me the way I was before I was willing to accept them. And I think the really sick thing about my condition was that it’s not that I wasn’t willing to take. I was completely willing to take anything people had to offer me in the way of relationship. I just wasn’t willing to take and accept them as a person in return. It was a trust issue.

Even though I’m pretty perceptive when it comes to reading people, I’m pretty dumb when it comes to reading their actions in the context of emotional and social cues. I would be able to see if a person was showing their true self for the most part, but then be very unsure of what they wanted from me. A question I often ask myself is, “What does this person hope to gain from this interaction?” People’s motives are often so double-sided and shallow that I didn’t trust that it was worth nurturing a relationship with them. And if I don’t trust what they can give me, then why bother offering myself in return?

As I encouraged this way of thinking and being in myself, I developed this thin, almost translucent mask that said I accepted myself so entirely that I didn’t need other people. It’s strange because it was a mask more for myself than for showing to other people. I wanted to be able to look in the mirror and believe that I wasn’t this intensely lonely creature who longed for meaningful connection. I did a good job too, because I believed it. For a really long time.

I’ve recently gone through some serious bumps in the road that have led me to re-evaluate how I handled some of my most precious relationships (of which there are not many) in the past. I’ve gone through and am still going through this spiraling cycle of regret about how I could have loved better had I just not been afraid to be vulnerable and taken off my mask.

Even though the regret is still hitting me hard, I’ve pushed forward enough to realize that the thing to do is not to waste time reminiscing, but to strive to do better in the here and now. Even harder is to realize that I have to let go of those people I will not get a second chance with, because they have the right to say no.

So I’m all naked and gross now, like a snail who has lost it’s shell, but then realized it’s been a slug all along.

It’s nerve-wracking. I mean, really quite terrifying to try to approach the world with an open point of view after all this time hiding under a shell. And I’m honest enough with myself now to be able to admit that I’m terrified after being blasted into the sky by this tornado of a thing we call life.

It’s weird to walk past a mirror and be startled. Like, “Whoa, what was that? Oh, yeah, that’s just me. That’s how I actually look like.”

It’s even weirder to find I’m not invisible after taking off my mask. Not necessarily that I love everything I see. There’s still so much that I know needs changing. But I breathe a little sigh of relief when I realize, “Ah, I can work with that. Those frown lines can turn into laugh lines with some effort.”

It’s surprising to find I’m actually glad I’m not in Kansas anymore.

~LDA

Unrequited Love

When you’re in a relationship with someone, (be it romantic or platonic), the most comfortable arrangement is to feel like they like you just as much as you like them.  I used to think that most times that’s how it pans out if you’re careful, but I know now that oftentimes feelings in a relationship are uneven regardless. Most times the way the scale is balanced is unclear until key events slap you in the face and make this clearly known.  Like maybe he decided that flirting with the waitress while you sit alone at the bar is an acceptable way to start a date, or you realize on a night out that this girl’s laugh is a little too obnoxious for you and if she mentions the word literally one more time you’re going to literally connect your knuckles to her face.

Well, every now and then you get into a relationship where it is blatantly obvious that this is the case from the beginning, and you’re on the disinterest receiving end.

You want with all your heart for them to be as interested in you as you are in them, but you can tell that the attraction is lopsided, if not one-sided.

You’re sitting there having this intense amount of intrigue in the person, but you can tell that they are only mildly curious about you at best.  You can’t quite figure out what about you is serving as a complete turnoff to the awesomeness that is you and this bothers you.  Eventually, you’re left there ruminating so long about how you can change their level of interest in you that you start thinking things that should never even enter your mind.  You actually begin thinking about what ways you can change yourself to fit the desires of the other person, (which is crazy because you’re you and that’s amazing and no one in the world should make you feel otherwise).

The brainstorming starts turning into crazy talk:  “Why don’t they like me?  Is it my style?  My hairdo?  My love of all things yellow?  Ohmigerd, no.  They figured out my left leg is half a centimeter shorter than my right one didn’t they?  I knew someone would figure it out one day!  What am I supposed to do now?  That’s not exactly fixable.  Well…maybe if I nick a piece of my heel off here…” Then you realize how ridiculous you sound so you start to reassure yourself that you’re lovable the way you are, but then you start to remember things that went wrong in past relationships, and you begin thinking maybe your ex’s dislike of your Disney plushie collection and penchant for singing along with television jingles isn’t all that unreasonable.

That’s when the worst question sets in.

I’m lovable aren’t I?…Pssh, of course I am…

Wait…AREN’T I?!

Now, it’s not always so severe of a case.  You may not question your worth to such an extreme degree, but the self esteem questions come tumbling in nonetheless, if not crashing in.  It really sucks.  My advice to you when you’re faced with the possibility of these obviously lopsided relationships:

Run the other way.

No matter how fantastic the other person really may be, they’re not worth losing your mind over.

And if you’re on the other side of the equation where you’re seeing that some person is latching onto you that you really don’t care to engage with, let them down easily but clearly to spare them some grief.  Or better yet, take the time to genuinely look them in the eye before you do.  It just might turn out they could become one of the people you love most in the world if you just stop holding yourself back and be honest with yourself.   

~LDA

Too Cowardly to Love

There’s this really insane part of us that longs to love so deeply that we don’t care whether or not we receive love in return.  It’s a part of us we try to bury for fear of ourselves.  The day we are born our instinct is self preservation so this illogical part of us that is so willing to be vulnerable in exchange for nothing is terrifying. We tuck it away in a file cabinet of our brain labeled “Do not open at all costs.”

 

But it’s there.

 

And every now and then we remember that we were born selfish but programmed selfless. 

 

 

Whether it be a pang of loneliness in the night or a relationship gone awry, we are reminded that a part of us wants to trust and give affection so much that we are willing to take the risk of complete rejection. 

 

There are some of us who in a rush of panic or a wave of unconditional love peek into that file cabinet and glance into the forbidden file.  Some of us survive, and walk into a healthy relationship.  But others of us are destroyed.  Having taken the risk on the wrong person, we are pulled into a cycle of pain and betrayal during which we hope against hope that things will change for the better despite being torn down again and again in exchange for our love and compassion.

 

Those of us who get stuck in that bitter cycle tend to be looked down upon by society, by both the happy couples and those of us who lack the courage to peek.

 

“How pitiful,” we scoff.  “Can’t they see it’s so obviously hopeless?  Only a person who lacks self respect would continue to put themselves in that situation.”

 

Suddenly we’ve forgotten that love is blind and keeps no record of wrongs.  Or worse, we never knew.

 

The people who get stuck in abusive relationships are most often those of us who have gotten in touch with the side of us who seeks to give affection so much that we don’t care whether the subject of our affection is worthy of it or not.  That beautiful and twisted side that only sees human beings as creatures worthy of love despite our nasty underbellies.  That callused and forgotten side that was simply created to love.  Having been disappointed again and again, surely the persistence of this side is not an attempt to receive love, but to give it. 

 

Those broken people should not be spit down upon, but looked up to, for the courage it took to wind their inner workings back to start. 

 

What if all we broken people did the same?  We could put away our shame and function in all our wonderful capacity.

 

Only guilty people scoff at the innocent in hopes the world will forget the shame of their cowardice.  They are the ones who were to afraid to brave a glance into the file cabinet.  Only guilty people have to run away from themselves in order to avoid running into the arms of another. 

 

All it would take is a little bit of faith on each person’s part to heal the world, but there will always be that one who in fear of betrayal lashes out and continues the horrific cycle of hurting and being hurt.  And so, we will always be full of mistrust.  Our souls forever lost to the fear of abandonment, even though love is just around the file tab.

 

 

 

~LDA

 

-~- Welcome Fellow Derp

If you’ve ever had one of those moments where you realized you’d done something so stupid that you just had to laugh at yourself, you’re in the right place.

You know…

One of those moments where you had to facepalm yourself just hard enough to verify that there was actually a brain rattling around in that skull of yours.

Or maybe just one of those moments where you felt like you had something interesting to add to this conversation we call life, but were too afraid to share for fear it wouldn’t come out the way you wanted.

If you’ve at all found yourself feeling like any of the above, I think this is just the little corner of cyberspace for you.

Why did I name this blog derp2derp?

Well, in order for me to answer that question I should probably clarify the meaning of the word derp, JUST in case some of you reading this don’t already know it.

  Sooo…

What does the word derp mean? 

Here’s a couple definitions:

Courtesy of Urban Dictionary:

derpy-awkward or embarrassing, especially pertaining to a person:

“Man, that guy is so awkward!”
“Yeah, he’s really derpy.”

Courtesy of Myself:

herp derp (or simply derp)-a person who is doing or has done something unusually dopey and/or laughable:

“Ouch! I just walked into the sliding door because I thought it was open.”

“Hahaha.  You’re such a herp derp.”

(the terms “herp derp” and “herpaderp” have also been known to be used in rage comics in order to substitute dialogue)

SO, WHY THE SILLY NAME derp2derp?

If we’re honest with ourselves, we all know that we have moments that bring out our inner derp and this blog is a way for me to share some of those moments with you.  I find that my inner derp surfaces quite a lot (probably more than I’d like) and I figured if I’m going to be plagued with the disease of herpaderpitis, I might as well do something productive with it.  From failing at holding simple conversations to everyday ruminations about the value of life, I’d like to give you a chance to both laugh at my silly everyday mistakes and hopefully, share some of your own derpy stories in return.  I’d also like to share my thoughts on various matters and hear what you guys think yourselves.  It doesn’t matter if you think my thoughts are off the wall bogus or genuinely interesting.  I’d like to turn this into a space where everyone is free to share their thoughts.  I’d like to hear from you.

Life’s too short to waste time being embarrassed by failure.

Why wince at failure when you can laugh?

Let’s derp it up.

~LDA