This is from the heart of me. This is from the deepest south of my soul and from this point onward, I plan to offer myself in the most honest sense of the word. In the most truthful ways possible, I will detail the faults and flaws and the good and the bad and more, I will own up and atone. However, this is also to move beyond and improve.
Then again, this is the basis of all my journals. However, my journals are not for everyone. At the same time, none of this is written for everyone, or anyone else for that matter. No, this is just between us, as in you and me, and going forward, I am going to remove all of my decoration or the so-called coverings and the masks which I have hid behind for the last, say, 51.75 years.
There was a time when I believed that I would arrive when I made it.
Think about this for a second. “When” I made it . . .
When, as if to be dependent upon a specific time or instance or as if to need a level playing field or to be at the right place at the right time.
Think about the words, “made it,” as to mean that yes, I have made it or that I have arrived, and hopefully in style.
I believed that I would have made it by now. At least figuratively speaking, of course. Yet, I have made it more times than I can count.
I’m sure of it. But the way we count or successes is an interesting thing, and the way we discount our small achievements or take them for granted is also amazing. In fact, this is an amazing disservice in the sense that we fail to see our capabilities, which happen all the time, and which take place, every day, one day at a time. But our minds are often off in the distance and focused upon misleading things, like misleading arguments, which cause us to fight with the people we love the most and be angry with the ones who deserve to feel our anger the least.
This is to account and to claim that effectively and going forward:
Now is the time for a change.
I used to think that money was the only way to make it or that money and the level of success was equal to a bank account or credit limits and credit scores.—that is, if we’re talking about making it big or being successfully wealthy. But no.
I have seen both sides of the coin. I have had a few pennies and yes, there were times when I was penniless.
I have lived with excess, and I have lived with very little. I can say that I have seen things that are essentially reserved for the rich and wealthy. And yes, I have seen things that only a poor person would understand—like an empty fridge, or the couch surfing moments of an emotional displacement or partial homelessness. I have lived in big homes and small apartments and I understand the feelings of being misplaced or living among the wrong people — and I have experienced the personal or emotional devastation of living in an empty home with no one around but myself to talk to.
I used to believe that I would be happy when I arrived, or made it, so-to-speak; or that I would be happier when I had what I wanted and this, of course, would include all the toys and all of the comfortable amenities, the house, the car, and the boat of my dreams and all else that one can afford.
I remember hearing someone tell me that anyone who says money cannot buy happiness is a person who never had real money.
I used to wonder about this. I wondered because I have met miserable millionaires and billionaires. I used to wonder because this meant that money could buy the essentials that lead us to happiness. But if this were true, would there be such a thing as misery? Could money buy more time with someone, who was dying of cancer and they were medicated to the point where they were kept comfortably unconscious, and hence, there were no final words goodbye or, “I love you” or would money be enough to link us to the afterlife so that we could say something like, hey, do you remember that fight we had?
There would be no way to say, “man, that was stupid.” or, “I wish you were here now so I could say ‘I’m sorry,’ and tell you that I wish we were closer when you were alive.”
Sometimes in life, money cannot buy anything.
And I know this now.
So I don’t know if money can buy happiness or rent it for say, a trip to the coast or to find a place known as “Killer Shrimp,” which is one of the finest meals I have ever had in my life.
Do you know what?
I want to be happy too.
And maybe I can afford this or maybe I can’t.
But no one can kill me for trying.
Right?
I have stayed in some of the best places and slept in the finest rooms. Equally, I have slept in some of the worst of them or lived with limited means.
I have lived with and without money—and at the same time, I thought I would be better “when” my circumstances improved or when my situation would be better. That’s when I would be happy. So, hence, I never dared or tried or worked. I thought this was up to fate and destiny. Meanwhile, both fate and destiny were screaming at me to pick up my arms and learn to fight for what I want or for what I believe in.
This is what I call personally, spiritually and emotional laziness.
This is the deadliest kind of laziness because slothfulness is what leads us to lifelessness.
And yes, I have been lifeless before.
(Haven’t you?)
I have thought long and hard about this and, of course, I doubt that I am alone in this regard. I doubt that I am the only one who has thought about these things because I’m sure there is a relatable or common thought when it comes to being happy. And I’m sure there is a common strand that leads us to the theories of “when?”
I used to think that I would be happy if I was wealthier and yet, there are times when I was without so many things. During these moments, there was a key ingredient which was undeniable and a presence that was unmistakable. I was happy not to think or not to have and happy to be in the simplest form of a relatable presence, which was to be alive in the moment, and to exist in the here and now, and nowhere else. I have bee here too. This was free to have but costly to lose.
Of course, I have to be honest here.
I have call out my defects and the internal voice. I have to expose the inner narcist, and the scared, or awkward kid, and I have to reveal the truths about being “the one” who was lied to or abused, picked on, humiliated and, as such; I believed that I always had to act in defense before someone’s offense would sneak by my gates or enter my heart and break it without leaving a warning.
I have to expose myself, my flaws, my ego, and my irrational fears which, of course, these are the true fears, or the internal ones, and these are the thoughts, and the biases, or the biased assumptions that whisper in my thoughts. These are the internal conversations which are unheard by anyone else, but they speak to me. These are the internal talks that whisper louder than any scream, and so, I can’t seem to hear anything else—especially not reason of the rationalities that perhaps I am thinking myself out of the game and keeping myself sick (again).
This is the disservice from an internal narrative, or the inner voice, or the fear which tells me, “you’ll never make, no matter what,” and this is the insecure thought that says, “sometimes, “when” never happens.”
At least, not for me.
Sometimes, “when” never comes and thus, the idea of being happy “when” my plans come together becomes futile. Therefore, everything becomes senseless, or pointless, and all else is fruitless and worthless. Effectively, this is what leads a man to shutdown and surrender to a belief that we are ineffective, or of no use.
This is life when hinged or dependent upon outside or external luck
This is what happens when we think according to the ideas of “when?”
I agree that time has a place. I agree it takes time to master the tricks we try to pull. And I agree that it takes time, and effort, and faith; however, I do agree with the scripture from James, when it was written that “Faith without works is dead.”
I agree because what does it mean to have faith and do nothing or to give nothing or to sit by and hope and pray, when meanwhile, life is built from the platforms of opportunity. Since action creates change, and change leads us to the gates of our success, life without work is nothing but a lazy or lonely pit of emptiness.
This means take nothing so lightly that we believe tomorrow will allow us the same rights as today.
And please, with all of my heart; understand that tomorrow is not always guaranteed. So leave nothing up to the judges and get ready to fight for your position without apology.
Here’s the question:
When?
When is it my turn?
When will I be happy or satisfied?
Or another question:
When will I have paid enough that I don’t think or believe that I still owe?
When am I right with the world again and when will I forgive my sins because of my regrettable yesterdays?
When will I be even again, or square enough to have paid my debts as well as the interest of my debts and my sins, and when will I come to the attention that I am settled and no longer in debt at all?
And with regards to mistakes or sins, or when thinking about the unspeakable things I’ve done, and when exposing the unthinkable things which I admit to and seek to account or atone for, when will I come to the understanding that I am better now? Therefore, I have the right to move on or beyond my past and create a new future, to which I deserve this, despite my sins or my past, and hence, no jury or judge can convict me more than I have convicted myself. Therefore, I am not sinless. Then again, neither are you nor is anyone else.
So, act accordingly.
I say this because I understand the value of changed thinking.
I say this because of something which I have called the five fingers of rejective thinking.
Each of the five fingers have their own titles and their own disposition—and they each have a name, which are Blame, Shame, Fault, Guilt, and Regret.
These are the five fingers which clasp as a fist and yes, this is the fist which we use to beat ourselves up with—or, if anything, then let me expose this in a fair and subjective way.
This is me saying that yes, this is me sometimes.
This is the frail and weak belief that acts like a weed and suffocates my better thinking. This is what devours my strength and keeps me weak, like it would with any weed.
This is the thought that I am less-than or incapable, or that I am inefficient, or underserving and insufficient and that I am simply, “not enough.”
These are the insecure thoughts.
This is what dictates to me that I somehow forever scorned as if to be some lifelong pariah, or that I am some kind of blight, or systematic burden. This is what tells me that, at best, I am only stupid or that I am an idiot, or I am broken, or that I am unable to be better and that I will always be an imposter, as in always and forever, until death do we part.
This is the thought that I am only an imposter who stands before the crowd, trying to pass myself off as someone who is above and beyond or bigger, yet—I am so small and so afraid.
No really, I am.
And that’s fine.
No, it really is.
I am so weak, to which I admit that this is brave to say and that yes, this takes strength to be brave when, of course, I am truly petrified.
However, in the face of fears and insecurity, this is the belief that I am an insult to manhood and that I will always be cursed or in debt because I was born this way, as in defective as ever.
But this is only half of me. This the dark half, but there is light and, therefore, darkness cannot overtake me. Not as long as there’s light.
Or you . . .
I used to think that I would make it “when” I would be able to escape myself.
But like I told you in my previous journal, no matter where you go, there you are.
There is no escaping the truth of self — although perhaps there can be moments of denial and sure, there are days when we hide or pretend. I get that.
But understand something, no amount of hiding or pretending is enough to hide or change facts—and, therefore, I have come to accept the past and the details of my life as an entirety.
I have come to the realization that there is no, “when?”
There is only now . . .
And dig it—
I get that there are times when we have to allow for the doors to swing or we’ll have to wait for the train or for the appointments to take place—but if the effort is always constant and if the will and intent overwhelms the insecure fears; I heartily believe that any conflict can be overcome, and any obstacle can become an opportunity to outshine the darkness.
I am late to this game . . .
I am not young nor am I so old that I cannot relate to the love I feel from the nights in my City or the long, early morning walks on the beaches along A1A, where the pastel-colored sky takes on the hue of softness and sense of peace is overwhelming to me.
I don’t know when my real life or my next life will begin.
I only know that I am operating differently.
I have changed my concepts in the sense that I am going forward, relentlessly and without apology. Should I shoot and miss or fall and fail to rise up, then at least (at minimum) I didn’t sit around and wonder “when” my real life would begin.
No, I took hold of the reigns and made what I could of my life.
And no one can take this away from me.
I have seen cold summers and warm winters; therefore, in the common dichotomies of life—I understand that into each life a little rain must fall.
I understand that disappointments find us at the worst times; but now, or as this relates to me—I’m not training to be the best on my easiest days. No, not at all.
I’m looking to improve my best so that when I feel I am at my worst, I will never be worse than my beliefs which are as follows:
I believe in love.
I believe in the appeal of one person, as in “my person,” and I believe in them as in all of them, as if of the skin or the flesh, and yes, I believe in the unbreakable and unsinkable value of true and beautiful attraction.
I believe in the spirit of souls and the truth of soulmates. As for the meaning of love, life, and the pursuit of happiness, I understand that I can’t wait another minute. I can’t sit around and do nothing.
I can’t let another second pass me by.
I can’t go on living as I was.
I can’t because this was disloyal to my truths and yes, I have been disloyal and dishonest and yes, I have been downright wrong to good people and with no defense; I do not offer an excuse nor am I here to explain or complain.
No, not anymore.
Complaining and explaining is something I used to do when I depended on the moments of “when?”
But there is no “when” anymore.
There’s only now . . .
Before breaking away (for now)
I’ll say it again and refer to Roberta Flack when she sang about “needing” someone.
“Just when I needed you, you had your arms around my life.”
In this case, sometimes the “when?” moments are perfect, like, say, the time when the music is quiet and no one else is around.
Two people can slow dance, as if to close their eyes and envision or pretend to go to a prom that never happened—but it should have.
I don’t know “when” my ship will come in.
But I do know that when it does, I will not forget the work it takes to keep this ship afloat.
I have to remember this because I don’t want to sink.
Not now or ever again.
So come with me, please.
And I admit it.
I’m scared. Yes, I am.
However, my will and intent to overcome this hurdle is greater than the adversity which has always held me down.
My will to overcome is stronger than the things that held me back, both emotionally and historically.
So –
since you’ve been with me this far.
I hope you won’t mind taking this a little but further.
I promise to give you my all.
You can have my “everything,”
One day at a time.
The Written Addiction 