Monday, November 13, 2017

The Beginning of Honesty








This was/sometimes-still-is me. Hardened exterior to protect my squishy, amorphous blob of emotions and feelings. But let's face it: men have feelings too. We just do. And yet, for decades like most males, I hid. Because I was supposed to. Because it was easy—you can't get hurt if you keep yourself from being exposed and vulnerable to any possible disappoint or failure. Unfortunately, living as such also keeps you from growing, which in turns ends up hurting in a variety of more complex and detrimental ways.

Which is what brings me to now.

For too long I've avoided accepting myself as a full and complete and complex person. For 30 years I reduced myself to a monodimensional being of sarcasm (and let's face it) negativity that I put out in the world. But alone, in my head with the thoughts that I cannot control (go read Turtles All the Way Down by John Green and you'll understand), a multifaceted array of emotions and suicidal thoughts and frustrations and disappointments and confusion and pain relentlessly bombard me. I didn't want to feel any of it, and even more, I didn't want anyone to see my weaknesses, to see my cry, to see my personally-perceived failures. Hence the sarcasm and negativity (somehow I keep devolving into these mini-confessionals).

Anyway. The point is, I'm changing things up. Again. For, like, the fourth time. Except, this isn't a blog change, it's a me change that happens to affect what happens here. Since 2010, this blog-space has been a release for me in so many different ways, but constantly devolved into me just unloading negativity into the ether-webs because I didn't want to deal with life anymore, secretly hoping people would feel bad for me, validate me, but really just think that my ideas were brilliant, that I saw the truth in a world of confusion, and then everyone would tell me how amazing I am to boost my nonexistent self-esteem because I was incapable of doing so on my own.



I was manipulative in a way I didn't understand or see. Through every iteration that boasted of 'new' and 'better' and 'improved' and 'happier' and 'people will actually like this', in truth, it was all just the same nonsense in different packaging. I am not and will not be that person anymore. I will be, however, who I have always been but avoided:
  1. First and foremost, a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints.
  2. Husband
  3. Father
  4. Son
  5. Sibling
  6. Friend
  7. Writer and creator
These are my new focuses. These are the parts of me that need nurturing and cultivation. These are my horcruxes I guess (forged by denying their existence, by killing the positivity that they bare for my life and for others), the seven parts that are me but for my entire life I've kept disconnected, hoping to balance each separately, thinking it would keep me from imploding. Instead, all of it came crashing down, nearly killing me.

I have a lot of room to grow. An understatement to be sure.

My hope is that I can be honest with myself by being honest with others (that's you). In order to confront my darker aspects—the buried and ignored—I need a place to expose them to the light; what little light I cast is lost since being snuffed decades ago. So while I try to relight my candle and take it out from under the bushel, my hope is being accountable to you for honesty and truth and sober reflection on my past and present and what that means for my future, will encourage me to reconstruct my thinking. Because I know, in the end, it is all a matter of neuropathways that generate the negativity and anxiety and depression. Only through incomprehensible work and retraining my thinking routes can I hope to rewire my brain and its approach to processing external stimuli.

And it all starts here and now. So buckle up, or snuggle in a blanket, drink some hocho, play that smooth New Age jazz, or whatever makes you feel comfortable, because it's about to get awkward up in here.

Plus, there will be pictures. So there's that.

1 comment:

Steph said...

I'm not sure how I missed this blog post before, but I'm proud of you for posting it. Thank you for sharing.