I posted a thing. And my family got really worried. And my mom cried. And then I cried. And that made her cry more. Not my best work.
So I took it down for a few days until I could talk to them and let them know that I’m ok and that I’m safe and that even though that one got way darker than I originally intended (I swear I didn’t mean for it to sound like a suicide note, because it wasn’t) and there are days when I’m having a rough time I’m still on my feet. I’m still throwing punches.
They still worry. But hopefully they understand.
Anyway, I put it back up. I put it back up because it matters to me. It was a story about myself that I wanted to share, a piece of me that I wanted in the world. And I hate that I made people worry and I hate that I made my mom cry, but I also got a note from a friend who said this:
I just wanted to say how totally brave and inspiring your blog post was. It was honest, brutal, and completely amazing. You’re not alone. I’ve felt the same way for huge swaths of my life. Even after getting married and having kids, all it does is sometimes add more pressure and more worry. Recently I find myself backing away from any conflict because of exactly what you described. And you’re exactly right. I’m now mad at myself for not fighting more.
All I can say dude is that you’re not alone. And everyone has a fight of their own.
And it helped me figure out WHY I write some of what I write.
This friend read my post and said to himself, and to me, “yeah, I feel that way too”. And for a split second we were both able to feel like we weren’t alone.
Because alone sucks. Feeling like there’s no one else who understands, like there’s no one else who feels the same way, like you’re broken because everyone else has it figured out and YOU don’t, might be the worst feeling in the entire world.
If I ever wind up in hell (and I really REALLY hope I don’t) it won’t be fire and torture and a million needles being plunged into my eyes forever. It’ll be an eternity of loneliness. It’ll be emptiness and solitude and no one to share with and never knowing if anyone else is out there. That’s my hell. That’s why I flail and reach out and maybe over-share.
So if I’m able to give someone just a glimmer of “someone else feels this way and I’m not alone” by sharing some of my own struggles and some of my own pain? Then I’ll keep bashing my big fat fingers against this keyboard until they fucking fall off.
Mom, Dad, Jen, and the rest of my family and friends who expressed concern about my mental stability and overall well being: Thank you for being concerned. Thank you for your love. Thank you. I love you. I’m so sorry I made you worry. I promise that I’m safe.
Tonight I’m going to try to clear my head and calm my mind and think hard on the fact that I’m trying. That I’m working hard and reaching out and asking questions to better understand everything around me. Tonight I’m going to sleep.
Tomorrow I get back in the ring.