Let's be honest for a second: None of us especially like reality. We've all got our own versions of what we think reality should be, and every last one of us at times wishes it would come true. It's a pretty basic part of being a thinking being, if we're capable of human thought, it's occurred to us that things could be better than they are.
For example, my life does not consist of days spent blowing things up with an Incom T-65J X-wing, then coming home just as Kahlan Amnell is done cooking me a steak dinner. That bums me out, because if reality was what I wanted it to be, Luke Skywalker and Richard Rahl would both be jealous of my awesomeness at the same time.
I accepted reality, and my place in it, then played the game and got better, so I could get out.
Fast-forward a year, and I find out that I'm ineligible to get an FAA pilot's license because I'm diagnosed bipolar. Now, bipolar's not the worst thing in the world to live with, it's far better than having AIDS or cancer, and it's better than being stupid, but the FAA still thinks it's not worth the risk to let me fly a plane.
Here's reality:
1. I have bipolar.
For example, my life does not consist of days spent blowing things up with an Incom T-65J X-wing, then coming home just as Kahlan Amnell is done cooking me a steak dinner. That bums me out, because if reality was what I wanted it to be, Luke Skywalker and Richard Rahl would both be jealous of my awesomeness at the same time.
But reality is. It simply, fundamentally, IS. It is what it is, and our wishes, fantasies, and daydreams simply do not factor into what it is.
A year and change ago, I spent 50-something hours in a psychiatric ward, and I didn't go there by choice. I met a few people there, some of us were simply depressed, and needed to get healthy, but some of the others were trying to fight reality. My roommate was convinced that he could convince the doctors that he was fine if he could just get outside and prove it.
A year and change ago, I spent 50-something hours in a psychiatric ward, and I didn't go there by choice. I met a few people there, some of us were simply depressed, and needed to get healthy, but some of the others were trying to fight reality. My roommate was convinced that he could convince the doctors that he was fine if he could just get outside and prove it.
That's called being delusional. He refused to accept the reality of his situation, and instead of playing the game so that he could get out, he tried to resist. Dude wouldn't take his meds, and he probably stayed inside for a while after I left.
On the other hand, while I will forever try to avoid playing by the rules that human society sets, knew better than to try to resist playing by the hospital's rules. The reality was that resisting would only have made things worse, and escape would have become impossible. When the cops woke me up to take me to the hospital, the reality is that I was going. The only way to escape was to get better, and to do so in a way that minimized the damage done to my life.
On the other hand, while I will forever try to avoid playing by the rules that human society sets, knew better than to try to resist playing by the hospital's rules. The reality was that resisting would only have made things worse, and escape would have become impossible. When the cops woke me up to take me to the hospital, the reality is that I was going. The only way to escape was to get better, and to do so in a way that minimized the damage done to my life.
Resisting the cops would have resulted in handcuffs, charges, and a permanent loss of my firearms. Not taking my meds, or aruguing with the doctors in the ward would have resulted in me staying there longer. Staying there any longer than I did would have resulted in me going before a mental-health judge.
I accepted reality, and my place in it, then played the game and got better, so I could get out.
Fast-forward a year, and I find out that I'm ineligible to get an FAA pilot's license because I'm diagnosed bipolar. Now, bipolar's not the worst thing in the world to live with, it's far better than having AIDS or cancer, and it's better than being stupid, but the FAA still thinks it's not worth the risk to let me fly a plane.
Here's reality:
1. I have bipolar.
2. I take meds.
3. The FAA does not like bipolar.
3. The FAA does not like bipolar.
4. The FAA does not like meds.
Now, naturally, I don't like that reality. However, none of that can be fought. I could go-off meds, and try to fight points 1 and 2, or I could try to cheat the system, to lie on my physical, and try to fight points 3 and 4. Either of those, if reality shows up, mean that I lose the ability to fly anyways, and face a judge for falsifying data on a federal form.
I can't fight reality.
So tell me, again, what the point of being bummed out about this is? I mean, it's a pretty natural occurrence to be bummed out because reality isn't what I want it to be, but to sit around and mope seems pretty useless. It's not productive, because the only thing that sitting around and moping will do is pile up reasons why reality sucks.
Instead, I'm going to look at what else reality is:
5. I'll graduate Tech without paying a penny for tuition.
I can't fight reality.
So tell me, again, what the point of being bummed out about this is? I mean, it's a pretty natural occurrence to be bummed out because reality isn't what I want it to be, but to sit around and mope seems pretty useless. It's not productive, because the only thing that sitting around and moping will do is pile up reasons why reality sucks.
Instead, I'm going to look at what else reality is:
5. I'll graduate Tech without paying a penny for tuition.
6. I'll finish up my final Bible credits debt-free.
7. Not everyone in NASA is an astronaut, nor is everyone in the MAF a pilot.
8. God keeps providing.
I think it just comes down to a matter of perspective. Yeah, reality sucks, but it could be a lot worse. I don't get to be a MAF pilot, but I'll be more deployable, and will have to work less to arrive at MAF HQ without any debt. I may never get my T-65, but that's not what life is about anyways. Life is about doing the job, not reaping the rewards.
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