Back In My Day

I started Facebook stalking people from my past and what’s come of their lives today. Some are still stuck in the same cycles, other’s have moved on to what appears to be better lives, and some are now dead from the life we led. The common denominator is that I wasn’t anywhere to be seen. It reminded me of the person I was, and the fact that nobody wanted that person in their lives, including me.

No doubt that I have changed and become a better man than I ever could have hoped to be. Yet I still suffer from trauma, horrifying memories, painful loss, debilitating regrets. I don’t doubt that other’s still suffer from the consequences of my actions from those days, and the days up to now. I know that my past is what brought me to where I am today, and so much good has come out of it, but we all delve into the what-ifs of life here and there. I still struggle with maintaining any form of lasting relationship with friends and lovers. There are still patterns from my past that I have not been able to break, and I continue to suffer the consequences of them. I often make the mistake of comparing my internal self to the exterior appearances of others, and wonder what’s wrong with me and why I can’t be like “normal” people.

I suppose I’m just in a spiritual lull, as happens to everyone. I’m struggling to adapt to the still waters and long for the chaos, excitement and drama that formed the facade I’ve built my life around. As it gets chipped away, I feel the pain of every chisel strike, and the loss of every piece of what was once a part of who I am. It’s the stillness that drives me mad. Feeling stuck, trapped, unable to move. I’m starting to understand though. If I continue to wander about during this time, the work would not be completed, and I would still be the rough misshapen and formless being that I am today. It’s time to sit with the pain, with as little external interference as possible, so that I might bring forth the truth and beauty that lies within.

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