I have chosen this as my method. And by this, I mean my journals and my time with you. This is my way to settle the tiny disputes that whisper in my head, in which I need something more than a quick fix or a temporary system of relief. After a while, you grow tired of the brief or interim remedies. You grow tired of the plans which only placate the troubles we see. Nothing is ever solved this way, only paused or momentarily tolerable. At best, we grow tired of the short-term ideas that lose their ability to desensitize us from the sharp edges of uncomfortable surroundings.
I chose this because this has become a voice for me. These words on my screen and the thoughts in my head have agreed to come together and allow me a moment of peace. This way, the worn soldiers in my mind can rest for a while and retreat from the enemies that never existed.
My reason for choosing this action is to overcome the daily ideas that serve me the least. To the point; my idea is to create a series of actions that serve me the most. Or put simply, I want to improve. I want to be better or at least better than I was the day before; therefore, I can improve a little bit each day. I agree the process is not as quick as something instantly gratifying,. In fact, my improvement has often crawled slowly, or maybe even incrementally, but at least there’s movement. At least, I’ve improved even if only by name or by admitting there’s a need to improve; I have improved and, therefore, my goal is to be one step better than I was the day before.
I choose this as a method to reach out to you and though, I am only a small voice in this big world and though I have fears, worries and concerns that my words will fall short; I have chosen this method nonetheless because whether I make a dent in this world or crack it open; no one has the right to stop me or silence me. No one has the right to keep me from improving. No one has the authority to stop me from creating a better life for myself. In fact, even if I were to be stripped of my freedom and my wealth or property; and even if I were lost somewhere in a prison and trapped in solitary confinement, no one has the right to take away my mind. This is my most sacred piece of property.
Suffice to say that I will never be under the thumb of school administrators again. Suffice to say that I will never be subject to guards or correctional officers nor will I ever be exposed to life in a box, homeless or on the street or in a shelter.
Suffice to say that yes, any and all of this is a possibility because we are all one bad decision away from downfalls; However, if it is suffice to say that I will never be any of these things then it would be equally as suffice to say that my decision to reach you is both selfish and mutually beneficial. My decisions are based on the direction of forward thinking; therefore, if I am the sum of my thoughts then I will think myself into the achievements of my best possible potential.
My action is my journal and my actions extend far beyond this page or any of my journal entries. I come here each morning because this is where my plans begin. This is my moment of contemplation to plan my navigation, to strategize my goals and offer us both a sentiment of appreciation.
This is where I come to fend off the demons that whisper lies or tell me about my limitations. This is where I come because although I may be part of a small few who understand, at least I am part of a small few instead of alone. I know what it’s like to be alone or unaccompanied in a deserted mind. I understand what it was like to be lost to the stages of problematic thinking.
This is my action that I have chosen to carry out with me until the end of my world, which is not to say that I am right or wrong or that my points are accurate or inaccurate. I am a traveler, Just like you.
I have to wake up in the morning. I have a life to live. I have people that I interact with. I have a job. I have bills.
I have emotional challenges and behavioral challenges. However, I also have the will to improve, which is why I am here. Hence the journals. Hence the books. Hence the poems and prose and the long-winded explanations, which to me are like my soliloquies to the world.
These are my moments or like Hamlet, this is me asking myself, “To be or not to be. That is the question.” Whether it is nobler for me to remain caught in the cognitive traps and submit to an ignorant plea or that I should stand and face myself and face my demons, then suffice to say that I would prefer to find my strength and my ability to endure so that I may stand a little taller and fear things a little less.
Everyone has the right to find their own outlet. Whether the outlet is exercise or whether we take long walks or as it is for me, if we choose art as a form of expression or if we choose some other form of communication as our outlet, in whichever form we choose, everyone needs a relief button.
We need a method or a plan. We need a strategy and to create an understanding of our pathology or personal science.
I have seen my generation lose to their own inability to understand or face themselves. I have been part of programs where I saw people die with a needle in their arms, plunger down and lifelessly hopeless. I have been part of suicide hotlines and peer-to-peer solutions. I have seen the so-called tough ones. I have seen pride come before the fall and I have fallen. I have been hurt. I have the sensation of emotional bruising which is still tender at times.
I understand the terms of bankruptcy and whether this is from an emotional, social, financial or personal perspective, my aim here is to rebuild my emotional credit and rebuild my personal fortress so that I am no longer hinged or dependent upon outside sources.
In the simplest way possible, if we are each to our own; or if we are all separate entities and in and of ourselves, rather than depend upon outside sources, I want to become energy efficient. I want to be comfortable that I can take care of myself without the threat or the internal narrative that distracts me with the whispers of insecurity.
My goal to someday be a writer has been overrun by my idea to build and create a better life as well as a better understanding for myself. I have seen people muscle through their life or “White-knuckle” it so-to-speak. The term white-knuckle is taken from the idea of hanging on so tightly for dear life or to hang on with all of your might.
And we do this. We hang on. We hold things that weigh us down. We lose time and money. We lose blood, sweat and tears because we’ve hung on to an idea for too long or we failed to admit loss or that perhaps there might be a simpler way to live.
I have seen people who I loved and cared for go down in flames simply because they could not surrender to things that were beyond our control. And I get it.
Who wants to surrender? Who wants to give up their control?
I had to surrender to survive. I was told that I could surrender to win which, admittedly, I saw this as a contradiction of terms. However, it was explained to me that I was fighting against myself. I was pushing and pulling and fighting against the tides. I was told that my energy would better serve me elsewhere and that while wars come with winners and losers, I myself would no longer be at war. Should I choose to find peace, I would never have to fight another war or battle again.
This is why I have chosen this as my action to reach you. I hope that someday, after my wounds have healed and the war stories can subside, I will have found a sense of peace that is impenetrable.
You know, I always thought that a person who showed feelings was a person who showed weakness. I thought that should I tell someone my thoughts or be open about myself; then I was open to interpretation as well as rejection.
I used to curse my feelings. I remember speaking and regretting my words as they left my mouth. I recall countless times when I said something that sounded so foolish that the last few words from my mouth repeated in my mind like a painful echo. I would try to say something smart. I would try to say something that would redeem myself but no matter what I said, it only seemed as if the words I said grew worse and worse.
This journal entry, as well as the ones before and after, is part of my long term remedy to find my own spirit of justice – to feel a little better and stand one step taller, each day, consecutively, until the hour of my death (Amen).
This world is a crazy place. Sometimes, this world seems like it’s a mess. Now, I’m not always the person who created the messes around me. But either way, I’m just a person in search of the best mop and broom to keep my side of the street clean and help my surroundings improve a little bit each day from now until I expire. I know there is more for me out there. I know there is more that I will do and there is more for me to see. However, I know that when the day comes and I am scheduled to meet the sky, I want to be sure. I want to be clear. Or wait, no. I want to be cleansed and satisfied to say, I used everything I had and gave it my all.
One dream at a time.