I guess this is the beginning…

I had a good 4, 5 paragraphs written, but it wasn’t genuine. It felt forced and i hate when my writing is like that. Writing should be straight from the heart and it shouldnt have any restrictions on it. Why? Well because its you expressing yourself and since when has there been a cap on how much we can express ourselves? Our freedom is based on our ability to be ourselves at all times of the day. Therefore, this blog and future book shall not be anything forced or premeditated, but rather it shall be a genuine straight from the heart blog that speaks from within the shadowy realms of my heart. I don’t know if that last sentence made sense for i tend to combine words or phrases that to me sound cool, but hey that’s me. I can’t help myself. 

Anyways, yes yes…’An Introverts Tale’ is about my story, about my perspective on the world and on how societies size 8 shoes don’t exactly fit my size 10.5 feet. Its about how life can be a bit too suffocating at times….its about my thoughts on the frustrations of the world and the beautiful aspects of it too. This blog is my expression of feelings, worries, vulnerabilities, but more importantly my fears as a human being; one that has decided to live a long, and prosperous life for I have a desire to live. Oscar Wilde once said “To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.” Correction: I would wish to live a long and prosperous life, but to make my life matter it just might come to a early halt, and i’m okay with that. It’s sad to say but people sometimes don’t change, or wont change unless something drastic and sudden happens.

“When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.” 
― Viktor E. Frankl

     I dont know if our memory of the past can be tainted by our human need to have things feel significant or if we can really look into our past and see it for what it really was. Whatever the case may be, i dont remember but I feel the memories of my childhood. I feel the void in my heart that once was, I feel the loneliness that once engulfed my very being and did not allow me to breathe properly. I did not grow up in a big family, and because of it i grew up with a void in my heart that desperately reached out for others. Not just simply anyone, but people who would understand my situation; people who were also broken as i was, and because of it were able to say “I am broken…and that’s okay”. I reached out for those i could call family. This breaks my heart to say, but its true. I do not lack love for my grandma showed me what love is and in the process filled me with it, but i lacked those people who i was able to show it 100 percent of the time.

     My immediate family growing up was composed of my mother, my father, my grandma and my brother and I who are seven years apart. My mother and father had issues of their own when i was born. I was an accident, a beautiful accident as people like to state when something of this sort is said, and with accidents come unexpected circumstances. Problems tend to arise when the age that you’ve been together is the same age as your oldest son though. Both my parents did what they could to stay afloat, and i could only imagine what type of struggles they had to go through. They worked a lot and because of it I never developed the ability to go to others when i had problems, concerns, etc. A void grew that needed people to understand the battles going on inside. A speech deficiency that i still work on till this very day, and a fear of my father until age 16 also didn’t help. Traditional Hispanic culture teaches men to shape their sons with fear. That’s a topic for another day.

   I felt this longing, and from time to time still do, but this is because my parents weren’t there. The people who should have  been the closest to me felt like the farthest. Physically they may have been there, but emotionally they weren’t. Not until perhaps last year was i able to accept things for what they were, and open the gate between son and parents that grew beyond simply a physical presence. , I feel like they weren’t there, and i propose that this happened because of the accident that had been created, me. This creation had now created baggage, and this idea of ones future being set in stone and intertwined with a baby and a partner hit one parent harder than the other. That parent was my father and he struggled quite mightily.

My father grew up in Guatemala City, the capital of Guatemala. For those of you who aren’t aware of its location, its a rather small country located in what they call Central America. It’s right under Mexico. Guatemala is a third world country, and people who are born here face two options that many of us in the U.S. never get to face, and that is whether they want to live or die. Surviving here takes an ‘eat or be eaten’ mentality and my father rose from the depths of poverty, to eventually garner up a Bachelors degree from the California State University of Los Angeles in Chemistry. I believe i was about 3, or 4 when he accomplished this.

With that said, i believe the upbringing that taught him to be free and do as he thought fit for himself was put in check when his future was forever binded to a child and a partner. This restriction in freedom ate him inside for the first 8 years of my life, and i say 8 years for that was my age for when he decided to go back to Guatemala and leave my mom and Grandma to take care of my brother and I. He came back a year, maybe two later, and not until maybe a few years ago did he come to a partial peace with it. Bring it up and he will blatantly say he can and will leave at any moments notice, that is why i say partial. The last major big dispute we had over morals, beliefs, family, and love before i moved out I believe was the turning point in that mans thick skull. From the moment he came back until age 19 we disputed over household matters and masochistic beliefs. I fought for my independence, i fought for my equality, and i fought for my freedom of speech. It sounds like a line from V for Vendetta, but that’s honestly what my teens were composed of. My father was a tyrant, doing as he saw fit, and he was as hypocritical as one could ever be. Even though he did not see it this way, it all arose from his belief as him being “the man of the house”. I had two choices, two either give in or fight back and i chose the latter. My brother chose the former, and its worked out so far. He’s still living at home with my father and mother, and even though there’s tension in the house at times, there’s a certain peace in the household that I am glad i can speak of. Yes he’s 15, and moving out seems illogical but living with my father is nothing short of difficult. I like to believe i broke down my fathers wall’s enough for my brother to finally come into his own though. He’s an intelligent young man, and he’s years ahead in terms of maturation and seeing the world for what it is in regards to when i was 15. He’s a sophomore in high school right now, and hes already thinking of college. I believe his top two choices right now are Humboldt State and UC Irvine. Whatever college he ends up choosing, I know he’ll be just fine. He has a fighting spirit, a dorky goofy laugh, and knows the difference between right and wrong. His moral compass is on point and at the end of the day that’s all you need. I’m proud of that bastard even though he’s only 15. 

Yeah yeah, i know, back to the point of all this. My mother, since day 1 has been a rock and never in her right mind did she have any doubt that she was going to raise my brother and I. I have so much respect and love for my mom for the things she had to go through, with and without my father being there. I respect her as a mother, and as a person for she owned up to her mistake and took complete responsibility of her actions and took care of things. Even though she was very reserved and didnt show me the emotional support i needed, she was there and did mean well. I respect my father as a person, for he had to struggle with his own demons, but not as a father. Instead of teaching a young gun how to be a man, how to be a human being and how to live fruitfully, instead he showed me the complete opposite. He showed me the tribulations one could go through if one isn’t at peace with oneself when a child is brought into the world. He showed me how an unreflective mind can unconsciously take a toll on others. These last two sentences are ideas that i carry and live by, but once again this is for another day.

My parents were absent during my childhood and in result i grew up longing for family that did understand me. I fought and fought through my teens for that family i wanted, and because of it I am who i am today. I long for people who i can communicate with on a heart to heart basis, because its them who allow me to feel comfortable in my own skin. Its them who affirm me that its okay to be broken, because they are too. In doing so i don’t feel alone in the world anymore. It’s this comfort that i have always longed for, and not until last year did i feel the hole disappear. Through my own way of navigating through people, i finally come across a set of people who i could call my brothers and sisters, my family.

I am now a fourth year at the University of California Riverside, trying to get a degree in Biochemistry, and let me tell you, it is no easy task. Not because of the workload but because of where i am in my maturation process. I did not come into my own until after I left the fight at home with my dad, and i decided to move out. This happened halfway through my first year of college, at 19, and its been a long way coming. I’ve grown so much in three years, yes i’m 22 now, and this is the first year i can say i have been given every opportunity to succeed with my schoolwork. Its November 27, 2013….Kimberly Garcia’s b-day, and in being given every opportunity to succeed i have shot myself in the foot several times. My back still faces the wall, but i have learned so much about my academics. I lack basic study skills, i definitely should read a lot more on my free time, and focusing for a full 50 mins in class seems almost impossible, but i know i can do it. I have pushed friends away, i have taken a leave of absence from their lives, but i learned its something i must do if i expect to succeed in becoming a doctor. I’ve learned a lot, i really have, and i want to thank all the tribulations and struggles that i have been through and I also want to thank all the people that have been there from the get-go, you know who you are my fellow brothers, in allowing me to reach this point in my life. Even starting up this blog is a prime example that I am now able to focus on myself and am able to face the demons that still linger inside. Nonetheless, I can smile at who i am, and i can smile with where i am trying to go, but i still have a long way to go to even tap the surface of my evolution as a human being. I shall never stop growing, and i shall forever search for people who i can call family, for i know others are hurting too. I want to help others, for loneliness in this overpopulated world is inexcusable. People have lost sense on how to be decent, considerate people….and i am on a mission to change that. I wish to change the world by leading by example, and showing people that we should be nice not because others are, but because that’s who we are inside. Before i can do any of this though, I still have some insecurities to take care of. I wish to one day talk to a stranger while being in complete harmony with myself, and get through a couple of paragraphs without stuttering or without getting the response “huh?”. That is one of my many goals.

Now back to my studies even though it is 7:02 am and i did spend the last 6 hours writing all of this. So much for priorities huh…

I guess all this writing means i’m attempting to progress from self-esteem to self-actualization on Maslow’s hierarchy of needs though. I dont know how to feel about it. I fear leaving my friends and family for a life of ideas and principles that i stand by, but then at the same time i also fear never finding my inner peace. Sighhh…i’ll leave this philosophical dilemma for another day too.

“We don’t have a great war in our generation, or a great depression, but we do, we have a great war of the spirit.  We have a great revolution against the culture.  The great depression is our lives.  We have a spiritual depression.”  ~Chuck Palahniuk, Fight Club

 

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