I’d love to be a racer in The Amazing Race. I judge many friends and family based on whether we would do well on the Amazing Race. Although there are a lot of physical challenges, I find that most of them are very safe and eminently doable; it is the mental of the teams that become the defining factor. Being strong is not as important as being mentally strong. And the problem with that is that I am not very mentally strong. My psyche is incredibly fragile. That is why I take medication for that very thing.
That’s bad enough but I am also not physically fit. I am so unfit that every meeting with the psychiatrist ends with my doctor pleading for me to change my diet. I am not so unfit that I cannot walk or run or engage in physical things, but I do spend a huge amount of time sitting in front of the computer. It is all I ever do, because on here I have everything I ever need. I watch something, while listening to something, while playing something, while reading something. That’s the ADD.
If I were ever to even apply I would have to train for maybe a year. Half a year, possibly. But after that I think I have much to contribute in terms of strategy and any mental challenges. I think I am sufficiently adept at puzzles. I can build things, follow instructions, and replicate from a demonstration. The problem would be my resilience psychologically. I can be impatient and easily annoyed. I can be cruel when I think someone is being stupid, even if their ignorance means well or is harmless. And sometimes when frustrated I become overwhelmed with the desire to give up.
My psychiatrist once told me that our sessions were interesting because I seem to have a good understanding of myself. And yes. I do think a lot about a lot of things; that includes thinking about myself and importantly being critical about myself. Being realistic with myself as much as one possible can—one cannot be totally objective about one’s self. It is impossible; it is an epistemological issue.
In any case, I would need a partner who complements these specific issues. As well as gel with me in so many levels. My best friend Bebs would be a very good candidate for this. She has been with me all through my life ever since high school. And there have been many times when we did not do the best for each other, as people tend to do. But despite that we love each other. I think that when you only see the best of someone, or you only show your best to someone, that person is probably your manager, your butcher, your bus driver, &c. The people who are truly important in your life are the people who see your darkest crevices, in which are hidden the most terrible things. Most people are not allowed there; only those we love are. Thus, Lacan sez: “Love is the coincidence of two lacks,” and: “To love is to give someone what you do not have.”
Another ideal candidate would be a boyfriend or lover. For them to be able to take Bebs’ place we would have had been lovers for a few years. But given that, the romantic aspect would help a lot. Another one of my weaknesses is male sex appeal. Short of anything evil or criminal a handsome guy could make me do anything. Having sex appeal by my side could help me a lot. Sometimes I need a hug. I need a handsome man to lie to my face regarding my value as a person. And the power is something that is illogical. It’s something very animalistic, very much based on human biology. It is akin to how I put a cold compress on the back of my neck when I feel too anxious.
I would also need that person to be very calm. I am attracted to very calm people. Perhaps this is one of those “opposites attract” things. I was with a doctor once, a Moroccan. We’ll call him Dr. Sayed. And Dr. Sayed was very calm. I think we would have done incredibly well at the Amazing Race. He was very strong, tall, and he was obviously very smart. One problem I had with him is he was so used to being right that, for some things, he freely and thoughtlessly contradicted himself. This way, he could occupy both positions and say he was right no matter what ends up being the case or whatever conversation we found ourselves in.
That always bothered me. He could say the most contradictory things, and he thought nothing of it. I never actually saw him be this way to other people, but I did witness him doing it many times to me. And we spoke on text a lot so I could revisit those statements whenever I caught it. And I am not saying that he “implies” one thing and say another, or imply two different things. I am saying he literally makes statements that contradict each other, sometimes in the space of only a few minutes. The commonplace is that we should not think someone is being malicious when in fact they could simply be stupid. But Dr. Sayed was not stupid, and so that leads us only to one conclusion.
This could definitely play into the race, if we disagree on something, and when we want to set it straight so that we could determine which path to take or what to do, he says he said one thing, when in fact he said two contradictory things so he could claim one or the other whenever it suits him. But at least I would have video evidence.
Despite that, I imagine I could bring this up with him before the race, and he would happily do his best to avoid that tendency. He was not a malicious or bad person. We all have issues with ourselves, fallen creatures of God that we are. But the good things about him definitely overwhelmed the bad things. He probably dealt with a lot more from me. Once, he said I was “harsh and cynical.” And this was during a compliment. It was more like, “Even if you are harsh and cynical…”
Obviously, he left me. And he was a doctor while I am a failure of a writer. No matter how many other ways we are compatible, he and I simply did not share success in common, and I think that’s very important. He never said that outright, but I’ve always felt it. But my art I think is very much a matter of compulsion. If I cannot write, I am basically nothing. I have been writing everyday ever since I was maybe 8 or 9, when I would carry notebooks with me and write anything and everything I could think of.
Just like night I had a dream that my new computer failed, and I was complaining to my family that the most important issue is I cannot write without a computer. I am simply too used to the keyboard, so I cannot write longhand. There is also a kind of hypnotic, calming quality to using a keyboard. And I love my Leopold keyboard with Topre keys. I recommend it to everyone I know. Not only is it amazing to use in terms of its feel but it is also incredibly, incredibly sturdy. I have had several mechanical keyboards, but this one is simply the best.
In any case, writing is so important to me that if I succeed with it, then that would be wonderful. But if I cannot, then I am stuck doing it everyday until I die. The term “graphomania” comes to mind, but I am not so overwhelmed by this compulsion that it is an obsession. It does not rise to the level of pathology. It would be more appropriate called a stubborn way of life. Although if I do experience some type of psychotic break, I think graphomania would be the best candidate for what it would manifest as.
When I was with Dr. Sayed, I would write short fiction with us as the characters. He would pretend to read my work, although at some point they became short enough that he could actually read them. He was always very encouraging, but at the same time I think being a character in dozens of my fiction began to unnerve him, plainly because he was not expecting me to occupy so much of my life with him. I think he wanted to situate me more as a fling rather than someone with whom he could actually share his life. And this is why he decided to go.
We’ve spoken many times about why he wanted to leave, and the reasons were always incomprehensible gibberish. Which is how I knew that he would not tell me the real reason. My immediate intuition is he had someone else that he wanted to be with, but he denied this so fervently that I was inclined to believe him simply because he did not give me a choice. I still consider this to be a very strong possibility. He is attractive enough. I also know that it is possible that, when he spoke to me about it, he really did believe that he was not lying, because he thought in his mind that although he was more attracted to someone else than me, he would not pursue them. And he “only then” decided to be with that person after leaving, perhaps going thru some manufactured drama that he did not want to do it, he had to do it because he liked her too much to pass it up even if he was going back on his word, &c.
It was also possible that, while he was with me, he was already with someone else. But I don’t think he is capable of this type of outright betrayal. It is also possible that he was telling the truth. Maybe he was. But I doubt it. I doubt because he was sneaky. Do you know what I mean? If he were always transparent with me, then I wouldn’t have any suspicions, even when sometimes things didn’t make sense to me. Sometimes, people simply do things that don’t make sense. But when someone tends to hide things and lie, then one naturally makes the very logical conclusion that they are hiding and lying about something.
If I were ever to join the Amazing Race, I wouldn’t mind at all being eliminated and not winning the million dollars. That type of trip around the world would easily be a worthy consolation prize. But I would hate to be eliminated too early, and especially being eliminated first. In that case, then, there was not much for us to have experienced, and it would simply be a total loss.
There would be the places and the countries and the people, but there is also exploring the landscape of your own mind and the landscape of your relationship with your partner, whether it be your friend or lover or family member. That is a vista that can only be explored if you dare to challenge it; our true selves are only exposed through the pressures of adversity. And like the mountains of the alps or the jungles of South America, the human spirit was created only by God, and if you search deep enough you can see the imprints of his hands, left while he crafted us in the beginning of time.