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dys-func' -tion-al, adj.

I saw an interesting movie last night (there's nothing on TV nowadays) called "Garden State". It was about a young man who comes back to the place he used to live because his mother died. He meets up with some people that he grew up with but still seems detached from them. He doesn't really see his purpose until he meets up with a cute, albeit strange, girl who catches his fancy.

"When the student is ready, the teacher will appear". Sound familiar?

He finally talks to his father about all the things they haven't said... all the stilted conversations. There is a distinct sense of death in this movie. There is also a great sense of love and knowing -- or finding out -- what ones purpose is. Do we choose our relationships or do they choose us?

I think one of the best things about the movie was the 'Nick Drake'-like soundtrack. Just as I'm thinking that, one of his songs plays. It was like sliding on your favorite pair of broken-in jeans. There was some element of this character's detachment that made me see a little of myself. I've been described as aloof, stand-off-ish (is that a word?), and -- yes -- even detached.

I haven't seen my family in a while. It used to seem like I almost saw them too much but recently we haven't been hitting on all cylinders. Everyone has their own life, I don't blame them... it's just kind of sad. When we're all together it's a lot of fun and laughter because deep down I think we like each other.

I think the problem is that I've spent too much time looking inside myself trying to figure out what's wrong instead of looking out at what's beyond my three foot perimeter. I've felt that sense of rejection so long that a large defensive shield is up. It takes a LOT to crack it. I want the power, though... there's power in knowledge and when I give it away that makes me vulnerable. I don't want to be vulnerable because it makes me afraid and I don't want to be afraid. It's a catch-22 because I'm already afraid.

Anyone can tell you that a large part of life is rejection but that doesn't make me like it any more. I was about to write a statement in defense of rejection but I don't want to steer the conversation to that area. I don't want to understand any one's rejection but my own. What am I doing wrong? There I go again, looking inside.

I struggle to be a functioning, healthy adult in this world. Some days I make it, some I don't and some I put the 'fun' in dysfunctional.

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