The Transition: My Darkest Edition

Doing things a little differently today. I’ll be putting out brief notes from my mental composition for the world to see. See, I think I had the world figured out wrong. In reality, I’ve been escaping the bullshit that’s going on.

I have a chip on my shoulder the size of my baby nephews head.

The mood all changed. I’ve been chewed up and spit back out. Was the pain inside because I couldn’t provide the right life for my family?

I’ll be holding my nose because now I’m drinking cold water. Wait, I’m watering my seed.

I only get one shot to write this right, so bare with me if this all seems confusing.

I refuse to fold. I won’t hide the truth because there’s nowhere to hide.

You see, most times my mind wanders into mysterious, dark places. It’s often hard to make sense of it all in real time. But here we are. Analyzing.

If you have ever found yourself unpacking suitcases with your belongings somewhere far from what you called home, you are probably familiar with a peculiar feeling that often accompanies change. It dwells on the continuum of excitement and yes, good old anxiety, elation and dread, and depending on the hour, can leap from one extreme to the other.

Reflection is referring to the cognitive and effective exploration of my experiences, in order to categorize and make sense of them. This reflection has provided me a framework for new interpretations while reinforcing my established frames. Transitions have and will continue to instigate changes in the way I think about myself. My values may become more pronounced as I discover what is important for my own well-being and what stress-management strategies work best for me. I’ve caught myself and fully recognize changes in my own behavior, including a collection of new habits, gestures, and even ways of thinking. As I confront questions of self-identity, such as where I feel at home and where I belong, I’m experiencing a range of emotions towards the new culture and the way it is affecting me.

Sometimes it’s all too easy to become fixated on events over which we have no power, or people who might never change their actions or attitude. But rather than focus on blaming others or moving the unmovable, resilient people set their sights on what they can control. When you look for opportunities to empower yourself and work towards change that is possible, you’re less likely to feel stuck in difficult situations.

My recent life transitions involve losses, such as a death, a big move, the loss of a job, and even a relationship ending. It’s hard not to acknowledge the loss. It’s hard to pretend it didn’t happen. But it’s hard to let it settle in. Is everything I touched, not dark enough, if the problem lies in me?

I’m only a man with no guidance. But I’m taking a stand to escape what’s inside of me. To clear my conscience and escape the burden that came to me. I can’t avoid change, but I can live a life of resilience. I can embrace transition and see challenges as opportunities to thrive.

To my love,

This will never be easy to admit. And I wish it wasn’t true, I wish I could do more, but maybe I really am not good enough for you. You deserve someone better. I am sorry I am not that someone. I hurt you. Our story was something so beautiful when it started. We were both two souls who were perfectly broken.

I’m not even sure the both of us were looking for love, but we did find each other. It will never cease to amaze me how our paths crossed and how we found love in the most unexpected way. I wish I could go back in time to tell my old self that it was all happening because I deserve that kind of love you gave me. I wish I could go back to help myself realize that it’s okay, if I take the little courage I have, it will work out good.

With that, I take breather. By remembering that feeling good enough in life, in work, in business, and in our relationships has everything to do with how we personally judge the cracks in our bucket. Because we all have a few cracks.

I am being tested. I am being thrown around to see different perspectives. I am being gutted to let the evil come out. I am being suffocated to cherish the air I breathe. I am being haunted to understand the spirits of evil. I am being prosecuted to learn the laws of heaven. I am being abandoned to value love of others.

In the eye of the storm, when I wrote this in that very same mental composition, I felt ok. I will be ok again.

I’m writing this to myself. In the hopes that I will read it on the day when depression rears its ugly head. When depression strikes and covers me in a black fog, my brain has a funny way of forgetting everything I know, so this letter is here to remind me of all the things I may forget.

The black fog made me lose my appetite, and the less I eat the less energy I have to fight this monster. The black fog really covered my hunger, but my brain still knew I hadn’t eaten, and even more fatigue set in. I couldn’t trust my feelings; they are unreliable.

The black fog took my self esteem and wrapped that shit in chains, but now I remember that I still have the key to those chains. There’s no more time to sit and wallow. Depression is a toxic beast and it poisons every single thought you have if you let it. Suggestion to all… Keep busy — very, very busy.

The black fog finally reminded me of every single flaw I have; it magnified them until I only saw my flaws. I’m not just my flaws. I’m so much more than flaws. I’m amazing, brave, courageous; I just didn’t know it yet. I promise the fog shall pass. I have chosen to keep going, plod on, head down. I can do it. I promise I can.

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