Growing up, I'd be playing a game or building a model or doing something which requires some form of effort and for whatever reason, I couldn't accomplish the task.
The pieces didn't fit together. The particular level was too hard or I couldn't beat my brother that day. I'd get frustrated and instead of stepping back from whatever it was and just going and doing something else, whatever level of OCD I possess would kick in and say, "Nope. Stay where you are, Chuckles. We ain't going anywhere until you've done it and done it right."
I'd usually stay right where I was and every so often accomplish the goal, but the usual outcome was my frustration would overshadow my ability and more prone to failure than if I just came back with a clearer head.
That led to the inevitable meltdown, temper tantrum, and destruction of property. I'm not proud of that admission, but were I to keep some form of tally, my wall would be covered in all the NES and Playstation controllers I've smashed over the years.
When I got older and the focus inevitably shifted from childhood hobbies to relationships with actual people, I carried that same OCD-laced ideology with me.
*Editorial Note - For the record, I have never been formally diagnosed with OCD, but I have a theory that we all on some level have it in at least one aspect of our lives which is not always an unhealthy thing. Since said theory has yet to be debunked, I digress.
For me, what it evolved into was the idea that I could change people. That my presence in their lives would somehow give me the ability to shield them from a lot of the crap I'd gone through. The alienation, dejection, abandonment, abuse, and so on, which has played a considerable role in my existence. If I could somehow help steer the friends and loved ones I have away from those things, my world would be drastically improved.
But there is one glaring, monumental flaw with that thought process, which I don't like admitting to myself even as I get ready to write it.
I can't change anyone. I can't save them either.
Looking at those two statements, I immediately see that as a failure on my part, as if I somehow lack the faculties and experience necessary to do precisely those things. I should be able to change people and if necessary, save them from whatever it is that threatens their existence.
Except no one can change something or someone who does not wish to change. It's a sad reality of this world, but I'm as prime an example of that as anyone else. People have tried to change me my whole life, telling me who I should be, how I should act, talk, walk, think, work, everything. And I've resisted it because I believe it's partly in our human nature and also because when I want to be, I am one incredibly stubborn and obstinate man.
And as a result, some of those people have walked away from me. Looking back, I don't blame them. There's only so much you can do to influence change in other people that when they resist, it's in the interest of your own self-preservation to back away and withdraw.
I don't like walking away from people. I'd like to think that I can hang in there until the bitter end in the sometimes overly optimistic hope that if I do, I'll see that eventual evolution occur. But like in the game of Baseball, the chances of failure are sadly higher than success and hitting .250 in the people department just isn't good enough. My reluctance to do so, however, has left its mark on me as well, because I make those failures personal and wonder to myself what else I could've done, when in reality there was nothing to be done.
I can't change people. I can influence them, help point them in a direction, hope they stay on course and pick them up if and when they stumble or fall off it. But I can't change them.
And sometimes, as much as I don't want to, I have to be willing and able to walk away from them. It's not a selfish act in doing so. It's because change, as I am slowly discovering along my own course, only originates within the self. It does not exist in an external form. No one else can change me. I have to change me and I have to make the effort to do so.
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