you are only allowed one life

i have returned. but there is no joy in mudville. instead, this story is moving to a new stage, one with so much gravity it threatens to come crashing down to earth.

the hate mail has been steady since i started this forum, but lately it has changed in its tenor. while previously i had only to deal with the angry ravings of the offended lynns and the insulted lynnes, my readership has found new bones to pick with me, bones that go far beyond my personal choice in names. no, they are now more interested in exposing the musty and decrepit skeletons in my closet.

this "constructive criticism" has brought to my attention that what i thought was a fun and victimless way to reclaim some manner of control over my own life and happiness is in fact an extended cry for help. you see, nothing could possibly explain the decision to change my name besides serious problems in my own life. problems such as narcissism, immaturity, or maybe just simple mental illness. unfortunately, i find myself caught in my own webs of subjectivity. after all, a narcissist is unable to see his own narcissism, the immature are too immature to realize it, and the mentally ill are unqualified to diagnose themselves. i suppose then it is for the best that i have put my neuroses on public display here -- it is only through the combined expertise of my gentle readers that i have been able to identify these rather serious character flaws i have been suffering from for god/knows how long...

thus, even though it hurts dearly to hear from you when you respond to alert me of my own personal failings, this is how it must be. this is the only way i will ever learn the hard lessons of life. this ruthless criticism is, i suspect, the only means through which i can ever hope to be cured and be allowed to reenter polite society.

still, i am uneasy. that is, i know there is something terribly wrong with me (i mean, think about it. what kind of grown man would even consider what i am considering? when it's put that way, there really is only one response...), but i still don't know exactly what that is. thus, we have begun an important process, but we are still at the beginning. if we are going to get to the bottom of this -- if i am ever to be normal again -- it is absolutely imperative that we dig deeper into my psychoses. this requires, then, some (psycho(tic)analysis. as we've already established, that's beyond my abilities. hell, up until a little bit ago, i thought i was fine -- i was even happy(!) with this decision. the only option, then, is to keep doing what has worked so far. i must continue to assume the role of the neurotic patient, writing my life as part of the talking cure. you, gentle reader, will have to take on the authority role of doctor and expert. i will tell you where it hurts, and you can help diagnose just what's wrong with me.

maybe the best place is to start at some kind of beginning. let's take a break from discussing the virtues of linus and the vices of lynn. we are older now, we have no more time for such childish things, it seems. the more fundamental question, if i am reading my hate mail properly is not whether i prefer linus or egon or balthazar or kiki as a new name, but why i would want a new name at all. as if it were even my decision to make -- the state granted my parents the right to make that decision before they even knew me. who am i to question that?

but i am questioning that. i have always been uneasy with my name, but it is only now that i am willing to suffer the tsk-tsks of my more respectable neighbors and take this plunge. so, what gives?

the answer is simple, and complicated. [it always is...]. let's start with simple. [you'll have to wait for the next post to read me indulging in the complications.] this simple answer is simply this: i am tired of the life i currently have. i want a change. yes, it is possible to change one's life without changing one's name. it seems that people do it all the time. but one of the things i have always been tired of is my name. i have never liked it. but i haven't changed it because i never wanted to be the "person who changed his name." it was too much trouble -- i didn't want to have those conversations and get into it. it was the easy way, and for a long time it seemed like the trade off was worth it. but something changed. i no longer think it's worth it. this is one of the more trivial changes i want to make, but the point is, i want to make it. i understand this makes me crazy -- after all, i should just buy a new automobile, or take a trip to the amazon, or enroll in a pottery course, or something "easier" and "more reasonable." but i don't want to do that. i want to do this. but even so, it is harder than i thought it would be. i thought it would be fun. i thought it would be amusing. it is not. it is either a big joke (with everyone laughing at me behind my back) or a big mistake (with everyone shaking their heads about me behind my back). sometimes i wonder if it's worth it. but that's the point. i can't know unless i do it.

still, there are cracks in my previously stable foundation. the qualms are bubbling up to the surface. after all, i might want this, but how am i qualified to actually judge what i want? again i am caught by limitations of my own subjectivity. when other people do what they want, it seems they are free. when i try to act on my own desires, perhaps i am merely sick. if only i had someone to tell me what's right, what i should really want.

hmmmmm... maybe my critics are right. there does seem to be something seriously wrong in my life. that must mean they are also likely correct that that thing must also be me.

oh dear. that wasn't very simple. i can only imagine what sort of mess the complicated version will be. nevertheless, it will provide plenty of fodder for the armchair/laptop therapists amongst us.

i am looking forward to hearing what specifically is wrong with me. i just want to be normal. after all, normalness, rather than the ability to act on one's own desires, is the real key to happiness...