Is everything okay man?
The most terrifying question: "Is everything okay?"
What would I even say to that? That the wave of uncertainty stemming from my lack of purpose is devouring my soul day by day? Clouding my brain? Draining my motivation? Locking me into a routine of hope and disappointment?
I've tried Jesus (the prescription for everything). I talk to him. But I know I'm just having an inner monologue. The "Jesus" I talk to just so happens to be a reflection of myself. When he tells me to "enjoy that Taco Bell," I've brought my shallow image of him to life: a reminder that "the Father and I are one."
Someone might say: "But Jesus is completely real, and you have to connect with Bible Jesus rather than the version you've created in your head.
Ah, the Bible. Perhaps that's true. But...
If I believed he was literally real, as presented in the Bible, would he start speaking to me?
From past experience, he didn't. All quiet on the western front.
The certainty I felt about being a priest when I was little had very little to do with Jesus and everything to do with a general feeling. A feeling that this was my mission. And a child's inability to understand the realities of the priesthood.
And now I'm a fucking comic. A writer. A singer. A podcaster. A blogger. A food lover. A motherfucker.
I don't know what I'm doing anymore.
Day by day, I try to be happy. I try to make my life make sense or have a direction that would mean anything to anyone. Or myself. But it doesn't. I have moments of meaning, sure. I can walk offstage from a comedy set and experience that brief moment of euphoria that comes from feeling like I'm improving at something.
But then it's back to the loneliness. The emptiness.
Is life just a series of dopamine hits that end in death? Is that all this is?
God, I'm such a whiny bitch. I never thought my inner world would feel this chaotic. I know it's not what anyone wants to hear. Hell, I don't wanna hear it.
I want whatever Jason Momoa's got going on. He's always rock climbing, looking hot, making movies. He has a wife or whatever—and kids—and they all seem just hunky fuckin' dory together.
And then I'm here whining when I have a good life.
Why am I not further along in my inner world? Why am I not simply committing to something good? Why can't I be grateful, content, and committed to my art? Why does everyone else seem to have their shit together?
So yeah. Whatever that thing is that's making other people content—I want it.
Hey Spence, I understand where you are coming from. I was in the Legion for 10 years, from 13years old to 23 years old. When I got out I felt like I was climbing out of a deep dark abyss, but the light was so blinding I didn’t know how to handle it, I couldn’t see. I took me a while to adjust, alcohol became the answer. I used it to medicate depression, anxiety, trauma, ADHD...and I thought it helped, cause honestly I felt like Jason Bourne, not knowing who I was, my purpose, how to live, what feelings were or how to feel. Every decision I made, whether it was a job, style of clothing, friends, anything I chose that I thought was me ended up being a shot in the dark. I would find out after getting into something that I didn’t like it, and move to something else. People would say I needed to stick with one thing and stay consistent, but if there was anything that I knew for sure, it was unhappiness, it was doing "what someone else thought I should do, be, aspire to.." Feeling 10 years behind, stupid, naive, hurt, broken.
ReplyDeleteI joined the marine corps, since that was the one thing I knew I (me) knew that I wanted to do before I went to ICAS West was become a marine. While that fulfilled some sense of purpose, I was still in a uniform, still with a group of guys, having to adhere to a set of rules...
It wasn’t till February 24nd 2021, when I checked myself into a rehab facility for alcohol abuse in Fort Lauderdale, FL. By then I was married, with a one year old daughter, living with my inlaws. I came home earlier that summer from a years long deployment, during which my drinking only became worse. My wife put her foot down, it was going to be her or alcohol, I needed to go and get help and would not be welcome at the house till I did so.
I tapped out, I was about to fuck up my life and the lives of the people I loved more than anything else. I flew out to Serenity Oaks the next day, and the rest is history.
Those 37 days of rehab changed my life, the boat came into harbor. I finally felt I could see as I was climbing out of that dark abyss, the light was no longer blinding, and I began to feel what freedom is really like.
Every morning I would sit in the humid Florida sun and enjoy a cup of shitty coffee and a cigarette with a former heroin addict or meth addict, or 70 year old alcoholic who couldn't remember the last 40 years of his marriage cause he was drunk. It was then that I knew, I was not 10 years behind but right where I was supposed to be. It was then I began to experience the presence of my Higher Power as a lighthouse on a rock guiding me to harbor amid chaos and death.
What came next was not an overnight fix, but a long road of therapy, counseling, medication, and the patients and love of family and friends. Amends were beginning to be made, and wounds began to slowly heal. I started working the 12 steps of AA, had a sponsor, and went to meetings. After a year of that I found that meetings were not what were keeping me sober, but a new found sense of purpose. Almost 4 years later, still sober and blessed to still be married to the same beautiful woman, with two beautiful children, and one on the way. Shits not perfect, sobriety didn’t make all my troubles go away, but allowed me to let go of the weight dragging down to the depths and float to the top, come up for air, breath, see that land was not far off and start swimming in the right direction.
This is not a "look at me, do what I did" kind of thing. I felt I needed to share my story, and let you know you are not alone.
My mind feels like it’s beginning to break free of toxic trains of thought, learning self-care and self-love are essential, not selfish. I think that for me, finding purpose started with finding a starting point, and that happened when I hit rock bottom. I realized that I had to become sober for myself, my mental health had to be a priority. I had to be good for myself, and being good for everyone else would just be a byproduct.
ReplyDeleteAnother lesson I learned was that we (those of us in the LC) often had severe self-criticism, constantly hard on ourselves, holding ourselves to unrealistic standards. Its ok to be ok, to try and be better than yesterday, but for the love of god, I needed to cut myself some slack. I needed to stop and smell the roses.
My depression and anxiety came in random unpredictable waves of an impending sense of doom, of inevitable departure, and just over all sadness. I didn’t know why, I was always feeling guilty, that if anything was going well, or if I was getting my hopes up for something I shouldn’t because it wouldn’t last. Fuck! What a sad way to live! I found help through counseling and medication. Offering it up and just accepting it, grinning and bearing it so I didn’t let others suffer because of how I was feeling, just seemed neurotic. Life's got enough shit I can’t control, its ok to get help, its ok to enjoy life when you can.
You are not alone brother, let me know if you need to talk, message me on FB.