I’m a fan of celebrating victories, no matter how small. Celebrating the small victories wires the mind to achieve bigger victories and it makes the defeats easier to cope with. With that being said, I am celebrating my blog’s most consistency in a very long time, and I can’t tell you how happy I am to have you along with me in this celebration!
If we’re being honest, I am conflicted about the Reddit content I’ve been posting. While the words are mine, the concepts aren’t. Sure, I’m responding to writing and journal prompts, but it feels like I can’t watch videos on any platform without being beaten over the head with repurposed Reddit content. I will meditate on this and adjust accordingly.
Until then, this week’s blog is another response to a journal prompt.
What was something you wanted desperately as a child? What do you desperately want now?
Prompted By: u/BlkUnicornHero
I don’t know if I’m answering the prompt correctly, or if my neurodivergent brain is taking liberties with abstract thought, but my answers seem a little unusual in my head—perhaps examination in writing will help me understand what I’m trying to think.
As a child, I desperately wanted to be understood. One of my core memories is being in the 5th grade, completing a writing assignment, and being told I used words the teacher didn’t understand. I felt deflated, defeated, and misunderstood. I didn’t like that feeling. As a child, I would panic if I thought someone wasn’t grasping what I was telling them—one of my mother’s friends said it perfectly: “he’s so passionate about the subject, and he’s so bright, that it’s hard to keep up with him.” I would feel as a complete biological failure if someone couldn’t grasp what I was saying.
Of course, that’s not how communication works, is it? If someone could say something, and be immediately understood, there would be no such things as conversations, debates, lectures, or education, would there? I grew out of that desperate need for immediate understanding. I learned to adapt, to employ new methods of communication if the first ones weren’t working. As an adult, I can certify I’ve met my childhood need of being understood.
As an adult, I desperately want to know that I’m doing it right. You know what pisses me off? When I give someone advice, or wisdom, and then they turn around and give that same advice and wisdom. I made that for you asshole! I’m not worthy of sage advice or wisdom.
I’m almost forty. At my age, my father had five children (my sister and I weren’t even dreamed of yet), and my mother had her two children out in the world. At my age, I don’t feel responsible enough for house plants, or to have pets. Is that a statement about how the times have changed, or how lacking I am as an adult? My parents had purchased homes, had grand-children, and I’m over here writing a blog. Let’s say, at thirty-eight years old, I had a chance to sit down with a thirty-eight years old version of my father—would we be able to acknowledge each other as equally capable adults? Would Dad look at me and wonder what the fuck I’ve been doing with my life?
Every day I’m seeing some new level of heinousness in the news, people being fucking ugly with each other, and I’m just hoping I’ve filled out my tax forms correctly. For a moment, no matter how brief, I’d like some clue, indication, or hint that I’m doing things right.
Thank you for joining me on this trip across the Millerverse; I’ll see you next time!
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Songs Listened to Writing This Blog:
- “Hurt” – Johnny Cash
- “Rock N Roll Never Forgets” – Bob Seeger
- “Astronomy” – Metallica
- “Hush” – Deep Purple
- “Black Smoke Rising” – Greta Van Fleet
A.P. Miller 