Goldfish Memory

Watching this Ted Lasso thing, I'm brought to mind my worst trait, the thing that holds me back and threatens to destroy me every single time.

I don't let go of things very well.

That's not to say I don't lose.  I lose--a lot.  I've lost my homework.  I've lost arguments. I've lost jobs.  I've lost maybe a thousand pens and pencils.  I've lost the mate to most of my socks.  I've lost teeth.  I've lost ninety-five percent of my hair.  I've lost my train of thought.  I've lost my temper.  I've come very close to losing my mind.  Worst of all, I've lost entire human beings.  Some died.  Some moved away.  Some drifted away.  Some found someone else--and some, some just got really fucking fed up with the Boyd Campbell experience and asked to be let go--which I did, at least on the outside.

I lose these things, but I don't let go of them.  I retain them.  I punish myself for losing them, over and over and over.  One of the reasons I got as fat as I did was because I would consume whole pizzas because a pizza can't ever run away from me.  I can't ever lose a pizza.  I can't ever screw up and do a pizza completely wrong, or too late, or the wrong way.  Pizzas don't care about me, and if I'm honest, I don't care about them--but they're there; they're not lost.

Ted Lasso says that the happiest animal in the world is the Goldfish.  Wanna know why?  "A goldfish," he says, "only has a ten-second memory."

I've heard this before.  I don't know what sort of scientist or sociologist, or animal behavioralist came up with this bit of data.  I don't know how they tested these goldfish or what kind of grant they used to study them.  It probably came out of LSU; they study a lot of weird shit.

Ted's Point.  Ted's point is that if you don't remember your mistakes--if you forget your losses, then you're not burdened with them.  I've been given this advice before.  It makes sense.  It really does.  The thing is, I absolutely suck at it.  I remember. I remember EVERY LITTLE THING.  Sometimes I get the details mixed up because I have ADHD and can't focus sometimes, and I'm also getting old, and my brain probably doesn't function properly because I spent entire decades letting Alica Keough or Inez Birthfield or Randy Yates or Inky The Clown, in his human form fill me up with blue drinks and red drinks and brown drinks and drinks in bottles and drinks in cans and drinks in mugs, all so I can forget, which I can't actually do.  Tennessee sippin' whiskey doesn't make me forget, but it makes me not care--at least for a little while.  

Ted Lasso would just stare at me with this dumb smile on his face, waiting for the lesson to sink in.  I hate guys like that.  I just want to punch them in the face.  You wouldn't know it, but I have a new spirit animal.  His name is Roy Kent.  I have thoroughly and completely wrapped myself in this whole Southern Gentleman thing, but beneath all that is one of the angriest mother fuckers you've ever met.  Part of that is that I was born into a family with incredibly high standards, most of which I was physically incapable of ever achieving, even though my mother sacrificed most of her evenings for years trying to teach me to read.  I would tell the world to fuck off.  I would tell you to fuck off.  I would tell them to fuck off.  But I can't.  I can't let go, even that much.

Jesus.  That Jesus, the one you've heard about, delivered most of his manifesto standing on the side of a small mountain to a mass of people who came to hear him speak.  Jews, then and now, spend a great deal of time concerned about how to pray and when to pray, and what to pray about.  Jesus streamlined that entire process.  As much as Christians labor over how to deify this man from Galilee, he doesn't include himself in this prayer, but he does add this, Father, forgive us of our transgressions as we forgive those who transgress against us.  That word is translated in a lot of different ways.  Sometimes it's "trespass."  We do things; we go places we're told we ought not.  If you're Methodist, that's the one you've heard all your life.  Sometimes it's "sins"; forgive us of our sins.  That makes sense, right? 

The point is God forgives us when we fuck up.  God forgives us every single time we fuck up, no matter how much we fuck up; even if we make the same fuck up over and over, all we have to do is ask God, and we're forgiven.   Some people may question the value of having some sort of ethereal being that may or not exist to forgive us, and if he does exist, he sure isn't inclined to settle the issue.  Receiving God's forgiveness really only helps if you believe in God and if you believe in the ability of this guy Jesus to speak for God, even though not long after teaching us this lesson, he was nailed to a tree by the Romans and died straight away.  

Having God forgive you is of almost no importance at all if you cannot forgive yourself if you cannot let go of those things you lost, the transgressions you made.  Holding onto those things and burying them under your skin is what makes you Roy Kent.  Anger and frustration become your superpower, and it makes you incredibly able to do some things, but it makes it impossible to do others, and it kills you inside.  At least, it did for me.

"Ten Second Memory."  Ted Lasso is immovable.

When it became clear that I was breaking inside, clear that I was absolutely fucking miserable and wishing I were dead,  my father would put his hand on my shoulder and say, "You gotta shake this off, buddy.  You can't let this stop you."  Between football and girls and fucking up most of my school assignments, Daddy told me to shake it off quite a lot.  Part of the reason that advice never really worked on me was that I knew he didn't shake things off.  He internalized them.  All of them.  He consumed his trespasses just like I consumed mine, and one day the burden of them made his heart stop while sitting behind his desk dictating a letter to Wingate and Deaton, and Taylor about a fishing trip they never got to take.  A letter they never received.  

"Ten Second Memory, buddy.  Shake it off."  This guy is really getting on my tits.  

Lessons aren't lessons because they're easy.  Turn the other cheek.  Consider the lilies of the field.  Don't cast the first stone.   Take no thought for the morrow.  God is greater than us.  God created us.  God forgives us just because we asked.  No sacrifice, no penance; those bills are paid for us in advance.

If God forgives us, why is it so horrible trying to forgive ourselves?  

Ted Lasso and his goldfish can go fuck themselves.  Really, this is very annoying.  I get the point, though.

I'm trying to shake it off, Daddy, I really am.  I've spent forty-five years trying to shake it off.  Losing is something I'm good at, but letting go is not.  I get what you're saying, though.  I won't quit trying.  

Apologies to my Aunt for the language.  Sometimes I put a lot of pepper in the pot.