I put a lot of weight on my shoulders with my company. They gave me a significant raise, and a new team to work with, but I would take my work home with me and work on things while I was at the house trying to make a few dollars out of a dime. I would end up with headaches and frustrations because I would think about how many flaws there are in our website, and the marketing of our site, and the downfalls of e-commerce. Often times I think about how much better things are on the other side of things, having a job where my pay is higher and my stress is lower. Even team players at Target get paid more than I do, and I’m wondering what I’m going to do for the rest of my life.

Then this weekend happened.

I just stopped.

I am an escapist. I’m trying to figure out if this is bad or not, but my sheer joys are involved in the escape of reality. That’s right, I escape whenever it’s possible. Whether it’s the bible, books, the church, movies, or just day dreaming & sleeping, I escape through the nearest exit very easily. I can slip into a comatose stair at any given time, and it’s tricky. I try to stick to my guns when necessary, but the simplest thing can set me off to dream land where I don’t have to account for who I am, who I will be or where I am going.

Maybe this is bad though.

I’m not sure if it’s bad to escape all the time, or to surround my whole life with minutia that will leave the next person questioning my references, but it’s all I have. I dislike the job environment I am in, I feel cheated somehow on a lot of different levels, and I’m slowly transitioning into being a man.

The major problem I see is the fact that I was never taught to be a man. I’m kind of just going on principals found in the Bible, and trying to do the opposite of my father did. My mom ditched my dad when i was 8, I don’t remember a whole lot of things before that, and the weekend visits didn’t really show me how to be a man. My stepfather had a good idea for a while, but the pain and anguish inflicted through that erased any positives I had about the situation. Then he and my mom divorced and I grew up with this “go to hell” “foot to the pedal” mentality that had me criss crossing the country with a record label at age 16.

I learned all my “manhood” and proper mannerisms about husbands from my Pastor, who would come to my house daily at 5:45 am to pick me up for 6 a.m prayer.

Now I’m wondering what to do in certain situations.

I still have no friends here.

I’m definitely alone.