Schizophrenia

You see I have this theory about myself. I've been thinking about it since October 27th or so of 2000. Nope that's not even right either. This theory of mine probably would have made its first appearance in my head around the 15th of November. It just dawned on me one day. I don’t know why, I don’t really care why to be honest with you. It’s not really an integral part of my tale.

The theory I have about myself has been true for every single job I’ve had except for one. By now you’re probably wondering (I say that like, there may be more than 5 people at most going to read this. Yeah, and I have a bridge in Brooklyn for sale) what said theory is. (Unless of course you’ve already heard this story. If that’s the case, call it a refresher course) I’m tired of beating around the bush so I’ll get back to the task at hand here.

It seems that I act like a total different person while at work than I am around the rest of the general population. The first time this idea of mine dawned upon me, I was at work, doing my thing and I was probably thinking about this girl I liked at the time, while at the same time talking to the girls I worked with. We would get to chatting about significant others and I’d be straight up about my status and they’d ask why I was single. I knew the reason. I was an asshole. No 2 ways about it. I’m honest enough to know it and admit it and more to the point, I didn’t care. I relayed this information and the reaction was always the same. “No you aren’t” would always be the reply. At which point I’d usually ask them about the relative convenience of crack in their neighbourhood because they’d have to be on something to think any different than what I thought.

So I went home and thought about the things I was being told. How in the blue hell could these people think these things about me? Why would they think these things? (I guess this’d be a good time to point out that I have a huge thing about people’s perception of me. I always seem to have to know where I stand. Hell if I know why, but if you can’t be honest when you’re alone at 2:02 in the morning, when can you be?) So I’d think about it, and think about it, and think about it some more. And then it hit me. They didn’t have a clue who I was. Because of the regulations that were placed on us at work, (The clothes we could wear, the way we had to talk, all that stuff) I couldn’t be me. And that far and away, beyond sucked. I liked the person that I was, at that point in time. I wanted to be able to be the same way all the time. But at the same time I wondered if work rules were the only reason that I would be different. Did I realize then that I didn’t like the person I was? Was I looking for an excuse to act differently? I’ve come to decide that I seem to have painted a picture of a myself being a nice guy, mainly because was in a position to paint myself a picture of being a nice guy.

So on I went. For the next 2 years almost. One type of person at home and another guy at the office. I didn’t think of it that way. I thought of it as, casual at home; ready to work at the office. I’d like to think that I know better now, but that’s a gut feeling and I’ve been listening to my guts for years now, and I’m starting to think that my guts have shit for brains. Anyways, I quit that job and thought “Finally. I can be me again.” What I should have thought was “Great, you’re a lying sack of shit again.”

I started thinking those things again, about 9 months ago. I was at work and this smoking hot girl walked in the door. I was like “What the hell did I deserve to do this good luck?” I walked over started talking to her, gave her the grand tour all the while falling over myself, acting like a complete fool. I wanted to get to know this girl better. So we got to talking and I asked if she wanted to go grab coffee after work, and she said yeah, so away I went. I was king of the world. Or so I thought. That night while knockin back the java she says “Wow, you’re a lot different outside of work than you are in it.” Not exactly the line I was going for, but wise man once told me “You dribble, you shoot, you hope for the best.”

Anways, I felt pretty bad that I hadn’t overcome this “Not the same guy away from the office” deal, so I wrote about it. It’s the easiest way I’ve found to deal with my problems. Write it down, read it, make sense of it, then deal with it. I’ve never put it here because there are some things I write that I keep for myself. Mostly though, I don’t have the guts to show it to anybody. (Honesty…Gotta love it.) I used the title of it though as an MSN sign in name. I may not have the guts to show my writing to the world, but I know a good title when I see one. A buddy of mine asked me about it, I told him and he agreed, it was a good line and a good title (It’s nice being right every once in a while.)

So why all this writing? Good friggin question. Last Saturday, I was sitting right where I am now, talking to a girl I work with, just shootin the breeze and she asked what plans I had for the weekend. I told her I was going to stay in and learn to play some new songs on my guitar (Incidentally, I play guitar, by the way.) She got excited and told me that I had to play for her some time. That one I did not see coming. I told her that I hadn’t played guitar in front of anybody that wasn’t in my family, I wasn’t dating or was one of the 2 or 3 friends I have that came over to my house all the time and saw me practising. Apparently this came as a shock. Kyle Furlong? Shy? Nervous? Never ! All I could say was (Out loud by the way) “Shit” which got me in trouble from my 4-year-old step niece for using bad language. 6 friggin years have gone by and I still couldn’t separate myself from when I’m at work or at home. So I spent a week of just being me. At home, at work, in the car. You know what? It turns out that “Me” ain’t such a bad guy after all. It just took me 24 years to realize it.