I Don’t Care

To whom it may concern,

All my life, I would never have guessed that I would be living in such a chaotic mental state. I probably never had the self-awareness to even start to evaluate my mental landscape until now. I was only ever concerned with what was in front of me and what I was told to do. I told myself, “If I don’t do what I’m told, who knows what will happen”. I was told to get good grades, I did. I was told to stay out of trouble, I did. I was told to focus on wrestling and go to college, I did. The fear of the unknown, the different, and the unplanned, has dominated the majority of my life. Looking to the future and setting goals was useless if just the thought of failing crippled my ambitions, and looking to the past was too painful for a young soul to process trauma far beyond its years.

That equation placed me right here.

An emotionless robot, ready to perform any task only because I was asked to. I’m a clown that will change my makeup to match whatever tribe foolish enough to accept me. Always hiding what I actually thought and felt, as to avoid conflict and make my life “easier”. Now I’m 26 and a lifetime of acting has cracked and weathered my masks. The strings that have pulled me every which way, have twisted and mangled my joints, and the sting of too many failures to count gives a burning sensation to every conscious step I take. Still the fact remains.

I don’t care.

I don’t think I ever cared. Others confused my work ethic with passion, confused my output for drive, and confused my apathy for humbleness. When in reality I never had a direction to head, so I just floated and wherever I landed in this sea of randomness, I tried my best. Yet with every “good job” and every “atta-boy", all I could think is “how do I get out of here?”, “when will this end?”, and “how much longer do I have to lie?”. I’ve felt like I’m crazy for the entirety of my existence, from not being able to make meaningful friendships in my youth, to my mother taking me to a psychiatrist as a teenager stating “something is wrong with you”. And as an adult, having significant others tell me “normal people wouldn’t care about this”. I can’t begin to describe the frustration of telling people exactly what you mean and still not being understood. Well maybe I’m just not normal.

The things that an average kid, teenager, or adult are concerned with, never really crossed my mind. To me, most of the things people concern themselves with seem pretty useless. I’ve never cared about the way I looked or the clothes I wore. I never cared about a persons political affiliation or what they do for work. I don’t care what God or gods people worship. I definitely don’t care what celebrities are doing. I don’t care about a lot of things as long as you leave me out of it. I guess I feel pretty selfish in that way, at least enough to get the word “selfish” literally tattooed on myself.

All I ever really cared about is freedom. True freedom, something that seems like an impossible reality. Not a false vision of a suburban house, kids, and a 401K retirement. Which if that’s your goal, more power to you. However the safety and trivial pursuits of society have never had a place in my psyche. At the risk of sounding extreme, I’d rather die in pursuit of the one and only real dream I’ve really ever had. It seems simple on paper, but I’ve found it is increasingly difficult to make any real decision for yourself. Whether its the powers that be or others caught in the trap, that hate to see anyone any less immobile than they might be. For me, a large chunk of college dept (for a degree that I didn’t need) and the general responsibilities of being an adult in America (that I never asked for), make it easy to feel trapped in a life-style that makes me feel like a head of cattle wasting time until I die.

A simple fix to my life long struggle, consult no one.

This is the solution I have decided to adopt. I’ve chosen to involve no one else in my decision making. Every step forward from now on will be towards “freedom”, whatever that means, and the person that I want to become. The art I make is for me (and this website), my time in the outdoors is for me, acquiring new skills and the personal relationships I put effort into are because “I” want to, not out of obligation or responsibility. My biggest challenge is battling a nihilistic outlook for motivation to take the steps I know I need to take. Steps I need to take without anyone else telling me to take them. Allowing myself to succeed or fail, knowing that it was my choice and I did it the way I wanted to.

Maybe I’m just a degenerate with no real accomplishments to show for my time on earth so far, but I’ve met a lot of miserable “successful” people and I refuse to be like them.

Wish me luck.