Happiness is not a fish that you can catch

Jay: I'm interested though -- does your code of ethics make you happy?

That’s a tough one to answer as a whole. I like helping others, so my compulsive need to be there for people in whatever capacity they require is self serving to an extent. When I make a friend feel better, or when I provide an ear to listen to their problems or a shoulder for them to cry on, I feel good about myself. But it’s not that easy.

I do my damndest to support my friends because I don’t want any of them to feel like I do: entirely alone.

Why do I sculpt insanely crazy cakes for Ryan’s birthday every year? Sure, it’s fun to say I made a pirate ship cake, a severed arm cake that bled when you cut into it, and a Super Mario Bro. 1-up mushroom cake, but it takes FOREVER to do. And with all my wrist and hand and bone problems it's painful. My hands go numb, then they ache, and often they cramp and I need to stop and work in shifts. And sometimes it takes creative engineering. I freakin’ ENGINEER CAKES.

So why do I do it? Because my birthdays are always horrible. And when I realized she was going through the same thing, I couldn’t sit back and let it continue. I know what it’s like to hate your birthday so much that you hide the date and deny it’s here because maybe, MAYBE if no one remembers it can be a normal and uneventful day. And if no one remembers, maybe you won’t remember all the shitty years past.

Early on I decided that this year I’d do something so cool for my birthday that my friends couldn’t say "no" to and skip. But the closer it gets, the less excited I am. The less confidence I have in my friends. And when I realized that the main reason I wanted to go to a go-kart track was to trick my friends into spending my birthday with me... well, I decided it was too pathetic for my taste. Especially when Red Beard made an innocent joke that "at most six people will come." He’s right. So why bother?

I’ve made a resolution to do nothing for my birthday this year. I don’t even want to spend a night in with Ryan watching movies, drinking, and chatting like best friends tend to do. I just want to be alone. Seeing my friends will just shove it further in my face about how little they’d do for me. It’s funny – I know Red Beard would run into the street and push me out of the way if a car was going to hit me. But I also know that in any other scenario he wouldn’t DO anything to show he’s a caring friend. And that holds true for most people.

When I was eleven I threw a surprise birthday party for a good friend of mine. I remembered her mentioning once how great it must be having friends care enough about you to do that. So I waited long enough for her to forget she told me, and sprung it on her. I invited every friend we had, and a dozen people showed to celebrate with her. She was amazingly happy. She still talks about it. And I’m still jealous.

Recently my friend, Goggles – a code junky who would rather write scripts on his computer than do anything else – told me that I was an amazing person. He said that since he befriended me he’s been stepping out of his shell and rediscovering himself. I’ve been encouraging him to go out, to talk to people, and to live life outside of coding. He told me he’s been more confident, and that he’s even talked to a stranger or two while waiting in lines at different stores.

Goggles accused me of being a person who draws the best out of others, and admitted that he suspected it was a one-way street and that talking at length with me he’s found repeated clues that I’m lonely. I felt very exposed when he said that. I wanted to cry and hide, but I was just too happy to have someone observe me for once. I didn’t think people cared enough about me to really pay attention.

RM, like all my other friends, is pretty self-absorbed and has enough problems of his own that I’m not entirely comfortable telling him mine. He does, however, have one trait that makes him scores better than the others – he cares AND he asks after me. I don’t always tell him what’s going on because I’m not always comfortable expressing myself to others. I assume, like always, no one gives a shit. But he does. And I need to learn that and use it. Thankfully, when I want to talk to someone he’s at the top of my short list. He also lets me know how much my friendship means to him, and he lets me know a LOT. I only see it getting better as I learn that it’s okay to let people know what’s going on upstairs.

So back to the question: does my code of ethics make me happy? Sure. The only time it doesn't is when I remember that I'm on a one-way street. And I do my best to ignore street signs.