XO: The Hardest Thing

I can’t sleep tonight. I need to be up at 5:45 tomorrow morning, but currently sleep just isn’t happening. I laid in bed for nearly thirty minutes, woke my wife up twice, gave up and turned on the computer. I’ve had a post buzzing in my head since I awoke this morning, so there really isn’t a better time compared to now to get it out on paper…digital paper?

Does anyone else out there feel as if they’ve lived several lifetimes in one?

I would raise my hand at this opportunity. Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I’m completely lost. I have no idea where I’m at, I have no idea what day it is, and I’m not overly sure why I’m in a panic. Nearly two weeks ago I had a nightmare so severe that it required me to wake up, take a shower, and get into an area of life before I realized what was going on.

It was a Tuesday night. I had fallen asleep after work. I was out cold for two and a half hours. I had a horrible nightmare.

I was so lost.

It is in the ‘trigger’ moments like this that it takes me a while to readjust to the life that I’m living. Whether it’s random apocalyptic nightmares, or just memories from the past; sleeping as turned into more of an adventure then an actual time to rest.

When I hear a knock at the apartment door next to ours, I jump and my heart starts racing. My mind starts to play tricks; is it campus security? Is it my RA? Is it the sheriff? Is it an attorney?

When in all actuality is has nothing to do with me at all.

I still hold onto a subconscious fear of the unknown. When I’m alone, when it’s quiet, when it’s dark; that’s when the harsh memories come back to visit. During the day I maintain my posture, go to work, work hard, and try to enjoy life. As long as Darco is around, it’s golden. However, there always comes a point somewhere throughout the day that the ‘darkness’ starts to creep in. This isolation, alone, fear that starts to pick away at my inner being. It messes with my mind, instilling fears of the past that I never recovered from. It builds up fears, and antagonizes me with the understanding that there are things in my life that will haunt my continued existence. These are the skeletons that I live with.

How does that have to do with multiple lives in one?

Lately, I’m starting to forget. I don’t remember all of the classmates I graduated with in high school. College seems as if it was from a book I read, not a life I lived. Even the divorce, and time of recovery afterwards…it seems unreal to have lived, and unbelievable to explain. How does one person proceed through so much and not even be ready to turn to age 30?

I’m sure I’m not the only one who ever thinks these things. As MC would put it, “Welcome to what the rest of us have already witnessed.” Perhaps it’s merely a portion of life, a part of growing up, maybe even more of a gallant step into adulthood.

That doesn’t mean it’s not terrifying. Do you understand the fear of thinking that the past twenty four years of your life you can’t necessarily always distinguish from fiction and reality? It’s as if life has been a mere fog for so long, and just now is beginning to part ways. In many ways the life I remember from middle school and high school feels similar to the life I have now, but the years in between are basically a mystery.

I’ll chalk tonight up as rambling, and if you made it through all of this, I commend you. I’m not really sure what the purpose of this piece was, aside from attempting to explain and even understand the idea of knowing, not knowing, and forgetting parts of an individuals life.

Perhaps I consider it a blessing? Perhaps it’s merely a mental concept of morphine, aimed at clouding my mind and protecting me from the harsh events that took hold of those years of my life? I’m, frankly, not sure.

What I do know is this; if I’m not prepared, dwelling on those events will take a massive toll. Last night, after spending Christmas with the family, I laid in my bed around 5:00 PM, and this overwhelming sense of frustration, hopelessness, and this unspeakable burden just rested on my chest. I didn’t want to move. I was content of forever staying in that bed. In many ways…it was no different than June in 2011, or at the beginning of this site. The difference from then and now was simply a young, beautiful woman. One who wouldn’t let me pass, “Get up”, she said. “We need to get you out of here”, she explained. Darco got me into the car and just started driving last night. I didn’t say a word, but just watched the world go by. However, she didn’t stop. She never gave into frustration, or refusing to show me grace. She was patient and kind, loving and nurturing, and was on my right side throughout the night. I shudder to think what the night would have been like had I been alone.

So much of life revolves around the ability of being able to obtain a belief in faith, a concept that’s dangerous if attempted at over analyzing. Put simply; you’re attempting to believe in something that you can’t see, can’t hear, can’t touch…nothing. As far as those around you are concerned, there’s nothing to have faith in, because you can’t have something out of nothing. Make sense?

I am just a guilty conviction in this realm. My faith has been absolutely pitiful as of late. I’ve mentally given up on so much. Working out, health, business ventures, dreams, ideas, imaginations…all of it; there have been several moments as of late where I’ve mentally thrown in the towel. As I explained to Darco last night, “It truly feels as if I’m having to go against the current on every issue that comes up, and now…I’m just tired, exhausted, worn out, and spent. There’s just nothing left.” It was brutal honesty, but it was just that though; honesty.

I suppose looking back at 2013, it’s been a year where God, over and over, has tried to establish this notion of ‘unwavering faith’ to me, and I continue to completely miss it. Even today, I’m on the verge of a constant meltdown, and here comes this one phone call, this one email that completely changes everything…again. I work for a madman, a crazy entrepreneur who sees himself as my mentor. What’s even more frightening is that it works, and his words today were, “I’m going to take care of his [mine] business, no worries about that.” What does that mean? More waiting. More faith. More punishment of my human ideals. More waking nights, more wavering belief, and hopefully…by the time I’m eighty or ninety years old, I’ll finally understand and grasp the idea of faith. Instead of jumping between man and God, I’ll just be able to walk off the ledge of unfailing grace.



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