By MYLO ERICKSON
One of the things in my life that I care very little about is, well … me. I don’t take myself too seriously.
I’m not in denial about my weight or looks. I do own a mirror, which I must replace every time I take a look.
However, during high school and for a few years following, I really hated myself. I found ways to punish myself for being me.
I used box cutters to cut my arms, or even carve words. I jumped off ladders and roofs.
I even participated in a boxing match, despite having no idea how to box. I still have no clue, by the way.
The list could go on, but I’m not saying this to impress anyone. In fact, I look back on those days and can’t believe what an idiot I was.
You’re probably thinking that doing these things was a cry for attention, and you would be 100 percent right. I felt that I needed people’s approval to be happy.
I know now that the more attention you get, the more you want. Or people just find your antics sad and pathetic. Of course, some people enjoy stupidity. That’s why “Twilight” exists.
I’ve also learned that you must be happy with yourself, or at least comfortable, before anyone else will feel at ease around you.
When I finally became content with who I am, my outlook changed and life got better. I met my wife, who happily keeps my balls in a mason jar on her dresser. We haven’t yet sprung for a nice wooden box.
Life isn’t perfect. Problems still arise, but I deal with them as they show up. I don’t stress. Things eventually work out.
This column is a bit different from the others I’ve written. It is also my last, as I am moving on to the University of Arizona.
I have enjoyed the time I’ve spent at the Aztec Press. Working with adviser Cynthia Lancaster was an honor and I will always be grateful for what she taught me and tried to teach me. Let’s face it, I’m a bit stubborn when it comes to learning new tricks.
I am also grateful for my friendships with my fellow journalism students. For some reason, they encouraged me and continue to do so. Thank you.
Now, I know that not many, if any, people will read this. However, I don’t need vindication from someone reading my stuff. That’s not why I do it.
I do it because I like to.
I’ll now hand over my soap box to the next person who wants to rant and rave about what makes them upset, happy or whatever.
Or maybe no one will. Either way, I don’t give a shit.