Sick and Tired

Where would I be today had I made the decision to take this path a long time ago? It is hard not to continually ask myself this question, but the impossible answer just doesn't matter.  What would life be like had it worked out with this-and-that, or so-and-so? Again, that's in the past, and doesn't change my circumstances today.

Starting off on a journey hungover is a sonofabitch, but it is nothing like the reality that appears when it all wears off. Talk about raw.

When I was on the "other road", I wasn't alone, but I was lonelier than I had ever been for far too long. It continued for two years after I quit drinking. I didn't know what to do with that. The most consistent remedy for me had been happy hour with a friend, followed by another happy, happy hour. If I have to call it "Happy", is it? Just saying.

A big part of this is practicing being grateful for where I am, and what I have today. It could be better, but it could definitely be much, much worse. A lot of bad shit didn't have to happen, but it did. A lot of good has happened too. Maturity comes with sorting all that out. I hope.

In my twenties, this felt like the rock star lifestyle without having to remember the lyrics in front of thousands of paying customers. In my thirties, it almost kept working but the songs had lost their punch. I tried to make it work out "long-term" with a few foggy attempts at dating and career fumbling. I fell for all kinds of words…"We are meant to be together!" and "I hope you are always in my life", “This is no mistake” because "You are my favorite" that has “Transformed" and "Gets It". I could write more cheesy song titles from bosses and friends that like to use charm to hypnotize their prey, but “You're the Man” sounds more like Village People material.

The final album for my one man jam band was Decade of Deception and Delusion. Rolling into my forties, the crazy train finally ran out of track.

About as long as it takes for juicy words to lead to some form of temporary hook-up, eventually, almost equally seductive words would lead me right out the door with an invisible cord attached to various parts of the mind and body. Maybe, with today's technology, manipulators have gone wireless. Whatever keeps you thinking you're still in the game is all that matters to them.

Generally, I could conjure a feeling of security, and I probably looked fairly prepared for life. Lots of potential, lots to offer, and lots of energy. Judgements probably surfaced about the choices I was making, or had already made. I would act like I didn't care what people thought, but of course that was just a lie I told myself. The truth is I didn't want to care what others thought or expected of me, but I didn't know how to avoid it.

Often, like all day every day, I would catch myself doing something in anticipation of trying to make someone happy, or notice that I was hard at work for them, or life. Knowing full well I was getting played, I would find myself in a cycle with certain people that never ended. Self-help books call it anxious attachment. My level of attachment would end up borderline insanity once the people that knew how to take advantage of it started taking advantage of it. I had so many that I was on eggshells and puppet strings with, but I don't think they felt the same way about me. 

The target kept drifting further and further away, and when I complained about it, I was told my expectations were out of line. You can say no, just see what happens. You can set boundaries, and then guess what? Two can play at that game. It was too automatic, and too repetitive. If I had to hear from one more self-serving person how they valued my friendship, I was going to vomit something evil. Like, no shit, I didn't notice how well it's been working out for you. It was so fucking tiring. When would I find the groove that worked for me, and get away from the parasites and vampires? They loved to tell me how much fun I should be having serving them, and how they appreciate it soooooo muuuuuch! Muah. Muah. Mush. Mush. Stick it in your…

It wasn't easy acting like I was enjoying myself, or that I was actually enthusiastic about performing some chore, or trick for the sake of a relationship; be it family, friends, work, business, or romance. Toxic people pleasing is a form of conditioning that produces a specific sickness. It is different from being a normal person, helping a normal friend in need, in a normal way. It comes with conditions and consequences through a parasitic dynamic. Sadly, the sickness manifests as self-hatred by choking off the body, mind, and spirit from true self.

I had to be convinced there was an end to the game. I had to hope that each performance was one good turn closer to that day when someone said, "Peter, you have arrived. You have now done enough. Please stay, and lets make life sweet." Well, that day never came. All I knew for certain was that I was about to get drunk, and give up the idea that someone would change their mind about me tomorrow. Ditching the people that were as counterproductive as alcohol should have felt better. It didn't. It was sad to see that they still wanted the benefits of me being 100 percent committed to their 50/50 at best. Peace. The Fuck. Out.

End of Chapter Zeros

While weathering the storm for 25 years, I learned that I have a willingness, anxiousness, and resilience for going all the way as long as possible. I can sacrifice my will and desire for a time, but I have my limits. 

I tried everything I could to improve my skill set, but the results were so frustrating. You can't turn left when the cross traffic is never-ending. So, with patience and perseverance, I began to open up space by letting things go by one at a time all the way out of town. Depending on what my energy level was able to manage, I would focus on a trait, habit, or belief that I knew was no longer serving a productive role and just let it dissolve into my higher power's galactic hands. If it turned my stomach, it was time to turn it over. Again, one thing, and one day at a time.

At some point I started calling this process the Spiritual Treadmill. During my slow, walking meditations at the gym, I imagine things I don't want or need drifting past me as I stroll on the belt. Simultaneously, I visualize things that produce positive energy flowing to me. Simple. To do it everyday, consciously and consistently, is a brand new experience for me, and hasn't been easy. I love it. I am immersed in the flush and evolution of spirit. The blooms have fallen, and the fruits are now taking shape. The orchard, full of trees, shade, and grass, is just up the hill from the outhouse and trash heap.

To paraphrase of a conversation I had two summers ago with a concerned senior customer of mine:

"What are you going to do with yourself, Pete?" They had asked me one day when they didn't feel like minding their own business.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well, you can't live off mowing lawns the rest of your life. There's got to be a better opportunity out there."

"I don't know what's out there," I replied. "I think it's time to let the right 'opportunity' arrive, rather than go chase it down. I am too tired, and kinda over bullshit and stepping in dog shit for the time being. I am not too worried about being rich, and I have always paid my bills."

"Yeah, but Pete, it's about making the bills insignificant."

"Oh, is that what it's about?"

I know that this individual meant well. I know that most do, but man alive are people, myself included, unskilled at reading a room sometimes. What would it look like if we would mind our own business and take care of our own responsibilities? Can we handle our own stuff long enough to not mess with someone else's? Or are we so codependent and bored as a culture that we are incapable of letting people live their own lives without involving ourselves and tearing shit down? I am all for connection, but it seems toxic-attraction and jealous sabotage are becoming more common these days.

If practicing solitude is the healthiest way for me to overcome people pleasing for the time being, so be it. Breaking off doesn't feel good, especially when you are tangled in a web with one, or two, or twelve of them. Freeing myself is the most empowering thing I have ever accomplished, and I am not done. I use meditation, writing, and exercise as the main tools to cut the invisible cords to the old ways and means. Old-fashioned fortitude is in play. Grit is my jam. Belief in Positive. Let Go of Negative. Get on and stay on the Spiritual Treadmill every single day. Set the incline and speed to match my mood, and let's roll fucking forward. Finally.