In my Deviant Behavior class this semester we have talked about what is deviant. Is it solely in the eye of the beholder-the one observing, saying it is deviant- or the person who is doing the so called “deviant” act? If they feel it is completely legit and normal, then is it? You know, if a tree falls in the woods, does it make a sound if no one is around to hear it? If no one else sees you do something, can it be deviant? I don’t know the answers to any of these things. I am almost positive though a tree would make a sound…anyway. Just as I am almost positive that TONS of things I’ve done in my life, no one has seen or knows about, but pretty damn sure they were deviant, so ipso facto they were wrong…and I’ve been to a therapist. I tried talking about these things. I need a way to get them out and move on and feel better about me. Running helps. It is a metaphorical thing now, not just to make my legs look super awesome.
I used to be a person who ran away. Not like habitually, not quite metaphorically either. After two years of college, I ran off and married my High School “Sweetheart” a.k.a. Jr. It was stupid. We ALL knew it. But I could, so I did. Then after six months of that awful-ness we deemed a marriage, I joined the Army and for seven years I didn’t really come home. I mean I visited but briefly. I loved it. No, for real, Hawaii is my retirement location. But I did stupid things upon stupid things upon stupid things. I drank way too much, slept with too many people that the next day I was like “what is wrong with me? am I outside?” -as in, oh my Buddha I was super drunk last night. This lifestyle led to two things: 1. Me getting this tattoo – “We must all suffer one of two things: the pain of discipline or the pain of regret or disappointment.”- Jim Rohn. I got the bolded part only. I thought, damn I need discipline, and 2. I got myself a baby. Yep, knocked up. Seriously watch that movie and it sorta was my life.
So, now with a baby, out of the Army and in college full time, about to graduate. I can’t run anymore. So I run, literally on pavement or a treadmill. I think it is therapeutic. So is some bourbon, but only in very small moderation when the baby is gone to grandma’s.
What was the point of this post now you ask? I don’t know. I am making up for not posting more on here and trying to pour out my thoughts more often to help my sanity. I hope I don’t lose all two of my followers in the process. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle.