Originally today I was going to do a retrospective look at the TV show Burn Notice, but for some reason the motivation to do that is just not present today. Instead, I feel like just discussing a few random thoughts that are going through my head lately.
Let's start with identity. This is actually something I think about often, because there is a continual struggle in my mind of what people "are."
That's a terrible sentence, but after staring at it for five minutes I really can't think of a better way to word it.
Maybe it's because of my job, the fact I love science, the fact I once had to skewer chickens in a deli, the fact i once watched an autopsy, or just how my mind works, but when I look at a person, my mind splits into two different thought paths. One examines the parts scientifically, the same way an architect would look at the makings of a building or a chef looks at the ingredients in a dish. It seems stuck on the fact that, at the end of our lives, we're made of the exact same materials as any other living creature on the planet and each part serves a specific purpose.
The person might have lovely hair, but my mind gets stuck on the fact that hair is a strand of complex chains of proteins called keratin. It starts looking at thickness and density and starts trying to figure out where someone came from to determine how essential it was for warmth at one point in evolution. I see a pair of legs (male or female) and I start mentally peeling back the layers to think of muscle structure and bone growth. Fingers are looked at for the same, but are also considered in finger length and how the knuckles are formed.
Don't get me started about what my brain envisions when I can see (and in cases hear) people eat.
It's funny that I've never been high but I've asked the question "have you ever really looked at your hand?"
Even the things that are deemed "attractive" in people are looked at by me in scientifically interpretive ways. A shapely figure or chest becomes conflicted in my mind between the appreciation of the person as a whole and a breakdown of the parts, how they formed, how they work, and other things that probably kill the conversation at a party.
Then there's the second part of my mind that looks at people as a whole. More so than a car, a computer, or anything else outside of the planet itself, a person is much more than the sum of their parts. While one portion of my brain is fixated on ankle bone structure in different types of shoes or toe shape in sandals, the other part is working out the identity of the person, not just from their actual physical form but also from all the things that make them unique in non-visual ways.
It occurs to me as I write this that there are things I never think about in the same way as I mentioned before. I never hear a person's voice and try to picture their vocal cords. I never look at a smile and try to picture facial muscles shaping it. I don't watch people dance or perform athletic stunts and try to picture how the muscles strain. I don't watch people think and envision firing synapses in their brain.
Anybody who has seen an extremely blown up picture on a computer knows that at a certain distance it's hard to see the complete picture when all you can make out individual pixels. Part of me wonders if there's a sweet spot to stand away from people to drown out the first part of my brain while not seeming distant or aloof.
A second thought on my mind as of late is something that might link back into depression or might tie more to social anxiety. Years ago in high school, when I was sure other kids were laughing at me behind my back, someone told me a phrase someone else told them: "Who do you think you are that all these people would think so much about you?"
It really changed how I looked at myself in other peoples' eyes. However, in true "me" fashion, it was in both a positive and a negative way. On the one hand, if friends of mine get together to do something, I know that I'm not being excluded. People have lives that don't involve me. It's common sense, and to think otherwise is really egotistical.
On the other hand, though, when I know a group of my friends got together without inviting me, I'll admit to being a bit hurt. Even if I know it isn't likely for someone I know to join an activity I think they'd enjoy, I usually try to at least toss out the invitation. Sure, it might be an hour drive from where they are, but maybe they'll be in the area anyway! You never know.
What this also caused, though, is me having to look at how I look at people. As I just said, I usually try to make sure everybody is included if I can arrange it. When I run into a bakery or small shop and spot something someone else would like, my mind immediately ponders whether I'd feel guilty not picking it up knowing it's something they'd appreciate (or in the case of breakfast for some people I know, something they need).
There was a period in my life where I felt that the only way to get people to really like me was to "buy" their friendship, either by always being the person to show up with snacks or being the one willing to run out to pick something up for the group. I don't do that as much anymore, but I can still hear that tiny little voice in the back of my mind that wonders why they'd keep me around if I wasn't. That, folks, is depression, and I'm aware enough to tell it to shut up.
There's still that part of me that's a natural-born nurturer, though. The one who never wants to see people upset, who's willing to give up time, money, or effort to support someone so they can get back on their feet, or simply do something small and silly for someone just to make sure they have a good day. People tell me that someone like me is pretty rare in today's world, which I take pride in, but I always try to make sure I don't give any wrong impressions or become clingy or inappropriate with attention. I like to help, I don't want to smother.
I'll freely admit that interpersonal relationships are something I'm constantly learning about every day (even with ones that are well-established and built on a solid base), and the friendships I do have are the most valuable things I have. I just always hope they know that I want them to feel free to tell me "hey, Erik, just a heads up, you don't have to do X or Y" or "Erik, I really appreciate this, but <insert something said or action taken> left me a bit <awkward/unsure/guilty/whatever> because..."
After all, it's the only way I'll learn.
...sometimes I fear that if I ever got into a debate with SimSimi about which one of us is truly human, I'd lose.
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