August is ending. What did I do with this month.
Nothing much. I was sick. I fought lots of anhedonic demons. I didn’t win all those fights. I learned about business. I read a book on high functioning depression. I crashed out about a business I’ve been trying to build that I don’t think is going to make it. I took my dog on lots of runs. And I ran a trail race in Wyoming. I finished a cool viking fantasy book series, and started a different fantasy book series that puts its characters in some interesting, and kind of questionable situations.
I cried a bit. I laughed a bit less than that. And I lost touch with reality quite a few times more than both of those. I don’t understand how so many people seem to hold on to routine so easily. For me it’s like trying to grab smoke. I can do it, but it takes so much effort, like I have to will the ground into existing every time I want to stand still.
The year is two thirds of the way done. I have lots of hopes and dreams for this last third. Also lots of fears. And doubts. That’s the way it goes I guess. Lots of sparkle, party, hype. Lots of skull, dead rose, blank stares. Kind of exhausting. I’d definitely swap hands with someone else if this was a game of Uno.
The important thing is we’re still trying. We don’t give up. And we hope against that soul-crushing pull of insignificance, that there is something on the other side. There’s a future of fulfillment waiting for us, if we keep trying to reach it.
I don’t know if I’m fighting this battle the right way, but it’s how I fight. I’m down a lot. I don’t know which direction to go. But I put on a good face. I keep moving. I keep trying. Because even though I feel frozen in numbness now, I believe, somehow, that there is a vibrant, vengefully angry, powerful part of me that refuses to accept that this is all I’m allowed in life.
I think a lot of us feel lost right now. Even though our feeds and friends are full of people who seem to know exactly what to do, how to do it, and look shmexy the whole time. It’s overwhelmingly positive, which I get. People want to feel positive. But I think it misses the very real, very painful flip side that most of use live in. Yes, there are more answers now than ever. Yes, you can learn basically anything you want to if you just look. Why then, are you failing? Why am I failing? There must be something wrong with me. Something broken. If it’s that easy, and I can’t do it, I must be truly terribly broken.
And you know, maybe I am. Maybe we are. Maybe most of us are terribly terribly broken, and all this information we have at our fingertips, is none of the information that will help us fix our terribly terribly broken souls. Maybe the information we need is inside us, which is why we can’t find it anywhere else.
This is just a theory. I’m trying to fix myself. Because along with believing that I deserve more, even when it hurts to exist, I also believe that the only reason I, and you, and all the unhappy people out there are not disgustingly successful, is because we are missing something. Something we can fix, or learn. But looking at what we’re missing is like trying to tell someone what the invisible man looks like. It’s a jigsaw puzzle with a missing piece, and three million possible pieces, all coming from different puzzles with different pictures. So, I’ve been methodically working through the pieces, one by one, trying them in the missing spot. I haven’t found the right piece yet, but I think I’m starting to pick up on a theme, an intuition of what the final piece will be. And I think that piece is going to be fixing something with the relationship with myself. Some sort of self belief or self value maybe. Maybe finally learning to lean into my strengths. Or, maybe it’s the "Top 5 Kitchen Hacks" Youtube shorts video I skipped three days ago. I don’t know.
I don’t really know why I’m saying all this. I guess, I want you to know that there are still plenty of people out here that don’t have it figured out, that feel pretty sad about it, but are deciding to keep trying anyway. If you’re feeling sad, I just want to tell you, don’t give up either. Sadness is much more crushing than it sounds. And I guess, I want you to hear it from someone who is also sad. That you can keep going. That you shouldn't give up. I won’t give up either. It seems to mean more coming from someone who understands, at least in part, the depths that despair can reach, and who still chooses to continue on. We’ll get through this.