The Rebirth of Sanity – Phase Six: Honestly

This entry is both timely and necessary because as I write to you about recovery, the question becomes when do we need to recover the most?
It’s not something we need when all is well or when life is happy. This is not something that comes when we’re around the ones we love the most. By definition, the term recover means to return to normal or to restore to good health.
Well, I write this as someone who is unsure about the word normal.
Of course, I suppose I know what the proposed definition is, which is to be expected, as in to be usual and ordinary.
But between us, I don’t see anything usual or ordinary about either of us.
Do you?

But still, the question remains: What do we do when we find ourselves in unnormal times?

I write this as a means to an end and to achieve a goal with hopes to at least regain or recover a piece of something lost.
Or wait, no.
I write this as a plea.
I write this as a mission statement. I write this as a contract and as a sign of my dedication.
I write this as someone who finds himself in uncharted territory. I write this as a basic qualification of someone in search of that one true thing or that one corrective measure that, of course, all it would take is the word, “YES!” and just like that, the skies would part and the world could be healed again.
Healed . . .
Now there’s another word that fits the times.

First, I will write this to you and as mindfully as possible because, in all fairness, no one wants to read about the bleeding heart or the sobbing emotional depths of life. No.
People want more. And so do I.

However –
When it comes to recovery, trust me, there are times when recovery seems anything but possible.
There are times when the life you had or the life you expected to have is instantly changed or cut away and in the cold harshness of the news, all you have is the crazed disbelief; as if to say, “Is this really happening to me.”

I can tell you that at times like this, nothing makes sense. Your best dreams become your worst nightmare. There you are, all alone, and wondering about the cruelness of what just took place.
These times happen. Make no mistake about it.
This can come from a sudden loss. Or this can come with the passing of a loved one.
This can also come with the death of everyday life; in which case, this can come when we grieve the loss of someone we love so deeply and so incredibly. Yet, as close as you believed you were, you come to find that you lost what you thought you had. These are some of our worst deaths.
I know it.
These things do exist.
No one can help.
Nothing can change what’s happening and at the same time, you know you can’t quit.
You know you can’t just “give up,” but how do you hold on to hope when the moment is so hopeless?
(or lost?)

This becomes a moral injury and the depths of a wound like this can cut deeper than to the bone. This is invisible pan and I call this a moral injury because this defies the ways you’ve been taught to believe. Therefore, losses of this nature are not something that makes sense.
Not at all
Life is neither fair nor unfair yet, in the so-called impasse of life’s moments, and to be on the same page so there is no mistake between us and when dealing with the things we cannot change, I suppose we have to find something to hold on to – even if it hurts.

We have to find some kind of hope. We need to look for some kind of miracle.
Otherwise, there is no rebirth of sanity; hence, because there is no sanity,  there’s nothing.
Again, please forgive the brutal honesty.
Also, I ask that you forgive the syrupiness in my words.
At the same time, this is why I’ve built this room, which I keep in my head.

This is my journal and my writing is my most special thing. This is why I always look to share this with you.
This is for me to come here and record my truths as well as to define a means to overcome the odds and the obstacles that I find in my way.
Besides, what kind of journal would this be if it wasn’t honest?

I would rather be honest than lie and pretend “to sound good,” just to be cool. For the importance of this application, I would rather be clear than pretend that the world is full of roses and daffodils.

I admit to seeing days of emptiness or to finding myself in trying times, I admit to this now, as I find myself in the middle of my own learning experience.
I am authoring this note to you as a means of escape and in the meantime; I am otherwise alone.
I am by myself because my previous world is behind me. My life has changed.
My love is distant and growing farther from me without my choice.
I am in the middle of unknown and uncharted territories which makes this entry perfect.
I say perfect because if I am to write about recovery, then it makes sense for me to be honest about my own recovery.
It’s honest of me to say that I need help.
I hurt.
I have heartache.
Absolutely true
But I still have you . . .
I know that I do; otherwise, you wouldn’t be reading this.

We have to start with the truth:
I understand heartache.
In fact, I understand heartache on a first name basis.
I know what it’s like to find myself without hope; therefore, in the cases that are worse than hopeless, I understand what it’s like to be worse than desperate – or to feel abandoned or betrayed.

But still, I have to hold on to something.
I have to have hope. I can’t give up.
I can’t let go of these visions and the trick which I’ve been working on for decades now (all for you) and above all, I have to keep my dreams alive, even if they are as dead as my yesterdays.
(Know what I mean?)
I have to keep moving and turning and working to change in an instant because life can change in an instant.
And it has.
So, for me to recover, I have to find a way to adjust to the changes so that I can navigate my way home.

I have to say –
It is not a regret to try. It is not a regret to put yourself out there with all of your heart.
I am not a mistake and nor do I want to be.
I am not something or someone to regret nor will I allow myself to be.

Even rejection is not something to regret because at least you can say, hey, I did it.
I gave it everything I had.
I gave it my all and I’d do it again, right here and right now, and no one can take this away from me.
Maybe we’re not all picture-perfect but who is?
Are you? Are we?
All I know is that I am a specific kind of crazy which is beautiful when partnered with my perfect companion –

I dared the line and crossed over. Even if no one else did.
Even if no one else did or if no one else had the bravery, at least I had what it took to step away and give my dreams a chance.
I want my life. I want to redraw the blueprints so that my life takes on the shape of my best happiness.

I would like to share this here because in the middle of too many changes, I find that my love and my life was previously misled by a hope that somehow, love can and will always conquer all.
Maybe love can conquer all – if it’s honest.
Or, if it’s true.
I know my love is true.
I know it is.

I know that my love is imperfect. I have jagged edges. I have cracks and flaws.
I have insecurities and fears. I have defects and items that trick me and fool my insecure nature to believe that my irrational fears are real.
And maybe they are real. But so what?

Maybe we are too scared sometimes.
You know?
Maybe we’re scared to allow ourselves to dare the great unknown, as if this were to be too much, or the abyss is too great.
I’d still like to try. I have to.
Slowly, I suppose and in stages because recovery is completed by steps that create a solution.

With that being said, I understand fear. I understand why we lose to it.
So instead, we stay with the emptiness we know all too well.
We remain as we were and live with the regret that comes when we didn’t even try –
or when we never dared to give our dreams a shot.

I can’t do that
Not me.
Not anymore. 

I want to give my dreams the chance to live and breathe. I want my recovery to redefine my sanity as something wild or even crazy and beautiful.
I want all of this and at the same time, I want to have my dreams unfold, even if they’re dead and gone, like yesterday.
.

I want my sanity to be what I pictured for myself. This is a vision that consists of a dream I’ve had for a long time; only, a long time has passed and in those years and months and days, I never dared or tried properly.
And that sucks . . .
I can see how hindsight likes to poke the bear.

I can see how looking back and wishing I had said or done something different complicates the mind.
I can see what happens when we look to analyze what took place which leads us away from recovery. Next, all we’re doing is sinking into the thoughts which draw us in the muck of emotional quicksand.

I used to be afraid to try and dare the unknown
And I still am . . .
One can say, yeah well, what else are you going to do?
It’s not like you have anyone else . . .
And for the moment, yes, this is true.
I am at a personal impasse.

The difference is I want to try now and more than just to recover; I want to try because I understand the line which states, “when you know what you want to do with the rest of your life, you want the rest of your life to start as soon as possible.”
I want to dare it all right now.
I want all of this with all of my heart because I do not want to sink or go backwards.
I want a picnic by a tree. I want to share my life the right way and with the right person; as in ongoing, and for always.

I understand that opportunities dwindle. But that’s not within my control.
All I have is this heart and these lungs and this body, which is mine, or yours
(if you choose to share this with me).
All I have are these words which I am sending out into the universe with hopes that somehow, they reach home – my home, from now on, and until the end of time.

Honestly . . .