Fueling My #FOMO (Fear Of Missing Out): Your #LifeAsUsual is My 'Impossible Dream' - #Usual #Usually

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Tell where to send email-alerts when I update the source-finding here

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'That word' (below-linked to a v-log about 'being aware of others at the workplace (with the help of box-breathing to bring down cortisol-levels, followed by 'putting out a note or newsletter (or a blog like this)') is built on an even-deeper source ... something crucial that firms the foundation upon which the our lexicon stands ...

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The word “Usual” is built on “Custom” (Use).

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One place I wish I had used that 'box-breathing to lower my cortisol-levels' was "on the drive back from a week in the mountains (with some fellow TBI-survivors & some medical assistants & volunteers)."

I had felt 'afflicted with annoyance at (something like) my miserable self-esteem' all week, and I felt (wrongly) that we (mostly the medical assistants & I, though a fellow survivor could've piped in) could discuss it on the way home.

Rather than 'letting me get into it,' they wisely started taking care of their "life as usual" (which I probably won't be a part-of—probably 'too personal to be specific about,' but some assistants busied themselves about "studying for their upcoming college-work" while another busied themselves about "arranging to visit their parent in the hospital") ... making 'my problem' (more like 'the problem my over-active imagination manifested') little-more than "an infant's unreasonable whine."

That conversation ended before it could begin (and rightfully, as ... none of us were 'up for deep conversation (well, I was; but I'm Amazing!) so none of it would've made any difference to anyone but me); but looking back on it now, I see what an underlying problem was—my "life as usual" isn't a part of anybody else's "life as usual."

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Oh, don't get me wrong; I like my 'life as usual'—I had a 'life as usual' that was a lot like other-people's 'life as usual,' but even then it was "not the usual life-as-usual." 

After my Traumatic Brain-Injury, I continued high-school and tried to go to college as-planned. But I didn't get a driver's-license and a car and a job (and I'm pretty sure I never will). So–rather than 'going to work after classes & having fun driving around downtown on the weekends'–I could only stay home & study & read & (a little late getting a little money & technology) watch TV & -movies & surf the Internet (mostly writing blogs like this).

And I'm usually fine with that. But when I see "I could've been part of a larger community if I had stuck with school (probably choosing a medical major like Speech Pathology or Neurology or Psychology) or if I had moved to a city not stricken with Urban Sprawl," I start 'an infantile whine.'

Quickly 'ignored' (or 'shut out' or 'turned away,' as infantile whiners frequently are), I descend into Ruminations—I'm such a helpless, needy, insufficient man ... statements that ought to be corrected, "No! You're such a wonderful, amazing, helpful, kind, generous, wise, understanding, abundantly favored leader!"

That's one reason Our Father God said "It is not good for the man to be
 alone":  "Because the man'll think he's right until someone else shows

 him why he's not"—Won't you show me
 if I'm right-or-wrong in the comments below?