The blame game
Here's a game I've yet to win: the blame game. By now, you're all probably convinced I'm just a whiney old, white guy. That may be true, but some of my complaints come from a very real place and exist without the aid of hyperbole. A while ago, I mentioned the incident when I was in the third or fourth grade when the kid tackled me and beat me up on the playground. I wasn't fighting, but I got detention anyway (which was later reversed). How was I supposed to get away? I don't know. The whole thing was insane. But it wasn't the first time something like that happened, and it wasn't the last. This isn't an in-depth post about blame and self-blame. It's just a few examples from my life so you get the idea of what I've dealt with. I was sitting around one day, thinking about stuff, and started to connect some dots. It was a moment of clarity in my otherwise clouded thought life. One January day my junior year in high school, my mom an...