For all my friends who have been following along, you already know that 2017 wasn't too great of year for me. I've spent more than enough time thinking, talking, and writing about it though. I'm not really here to talk about my strenuous season, but rather, its ending. I spent so much time letting all of this toxicity ruin my life. My anger, my doubt, my bitterness at so many things served itself us as a disgusting poison to my happiness, my sense of joy that at one time thrived every day. And I realized it all as it came to a peak in the most common, and unfortunately the most willfully ignored, form of toxicity: relationships. In this case, a business relationship. About this time last year, a relative of mine sent me a message on Facebook. He told me that he had a friend, someone he had known for years through their old church that ran a non-profit raising money for issues like homelessness, assisting those with drug addictions, ending human sex trafficking, and many other things of the sort. This friend was needing help overhauling their blog, and my relative suggested me as I had been doing a bit of freelance writing/media work at the time. I thought to myself, "Great, this could be an opportunity not just to pick up a little work on the side, but also make some new friendships with like-minded people!" So I set up a meeting with my relative's friend, we'll call her Trudy, for early the next week at one of my favorite coffee shops, Polonza's Bistro. (HIGHLY recommended) . When I met Trudy, it was clear that there was something different about her. A 50 year old woman, who introduced herself as nothing other than...crazy. Crazy. That's what she told me about herself. Yes, we talked about her non-profit, her goals, her reason for needing help with her blog, and all the business-y stuff you discuss at these types of meetings. But what I very specifically remember, is how she told me she was crazy. And she said it over, and over, and over. "Oh my gosh, I'm just so crazy. Like, you probably think I'm just crazy, because I'm crazy. I mean, I like doing this kind of stuff because I'm just so crazy." Friends. I implore you. If someone self-diagnoses as crazy...BELIEVE THEM. We spoke for over an hour, and the fact that she told me she was crazy is the majority of what I got out of it. Well that, and a fabulous iced honey latte. Seriously you have to go to Polonza's. So fast forward a few weeks. We had discussed my responsibilities, payment (much less than what I had been charging others, due to the fact that she was a "family friend" and that it was for a non-profit with a legitimate purpose/goal), and had decided that I would write five blog articles every week for her, and for the first couple months I would start writing these pieces without publishing them, as to build up a queue of articles that we would plan in advance. She insisted I make the hour drive out to her home every week, to sit and listen to her talk as I took notes to decipher the erroneous things she was saying in an attempt to create a decent published work out of it. Erroneous. That's too vague of a word to describe Trudy's beliefs. Let me expound. In my few months of working with Trudy, a woman who claimed to have Christian beliefs, she would tell me things like this...
I wish I could tell you I was joking. I wish I could tell you she wasn't COMPLETELY serious. But I can't. This was just how Trudy thought. I normally would have turned and ran from this kind of thinking. I wouldn't consider myself a very religious person, though I definitely value the idea of pursuing God in the everyday life. In that belief, I think it's dangerous to take God and try to mix Him into ideas that are completely, directly contradictory to what His word says. However, this wasn't just a business. I had a lot of respect for what Trudy was doing with her non-profit, and I was willing to look past our differences in the name of a greater cause. In this case, I so regret my willingness to do so. In all honesty, things weren't totally terrible from the start. On top of the articles, Trudy had me filming videos of her talking to publish on her blog as well. I "edited" them ( I give the air quotes just because I don't want to give you the idea that I have any real editing skills, I merely cut the video where she started, stopped, tripped over her words, etc., added music, fade in, fade out, easy kind of stuff). I posted them. Same as the blogs, we built up a little queue of these videos so that when we filmed videos, I didn't post them for a few weeks. Everything was going smooth, she would talk, I would listen, write, film, publish, all of the above, and Trudy would compliment me ENDLESSLY. I love your creativity and spirit of excellence. You are just so great at this, I'm so thankful to have you working with me. Thank you so much for doing all of the great work that you do. While I didn't really enjoy the work, or who I was doing it for, I was still happy to be doing it. Certainly not for the money, but for the end goal of funding a great cause. But alas, all good things must come to an end. I got a new job schedule, I started going back to school, Brooke and I moved out of her parents house and into our own apartment and decided to start trying to have a baby. All within a matter of one or two weeks. I wasn't able to commit the time to her cause anymore. So on that sunny August day, I gave Trudy a call. And the kindness came to an abrupt halt. The moment, THE MOMENT I told her that I wouldn't be able to do the job anymore, she flipped the script. Suddenly, she was rude. Insulting my work, telling me that I never did that good of a job anyways, a lot of "whatever"s and "yeah thats fine"s. It was honestly incredibly immature for a 50 year old (hell it was immature for a 15 year old). I made the decision at that phone call that I would not speak on the phone with her again. I wasn't going to let her treat me so poorly just because my priorities were changing. . But we came to an easy agreement, Since my work was merely to write her articles and film her ridiculous, repetitive speeches every week, and then post them as she requested them, my work was done. I had done everything she paid me to do up until that point. So, I would just send her the remaining articles and videos that had not been posted, and we would be done. She offered me more money to do this, but I told her that would not be necessary. However, my reason for having to leave my work with her was because of how insanely busy my life suddenly was. I wouldn't be able to do it right away, but I would make an effort to get her everything that was hers. And she agreed. She agreed. And yet, this is when it got ugly. It took me about two weeks, but I finally got her everything she needed. I emailed her every file I had. Every word, every frame. And yet, it wasn't what she wanted. She wanted a flash drive with all of these files on it, and for whatever reason, she couldn't just download the files and put them on a flash drive. So I told her I would upload them to her Google Drive, and that was the best I could do. I wasn't in a place to make the hour trip out to her house just to give her files she already had. Of course, this would take more time. And not two weeks later, to the day, I got a ridiculous email from her, that I would love to copy and paste so you can really get a feel for how this woman treats people who stop giving her what she wants, but if you've made it this far already, I don't want to bog you down with a lengthy email that can be summed up in a few lines: I'm done waiting, so instead of giving me my files the way that I want them, you will upload all of the articles and videos to my blog, in the timing that we previously agreed upon though I will not pay you anything more, or you will pay me $300 and drive to my house with a flash drive of all the files. If you don't agree to do either of these things within 7 days, I'll be taking "further action" I guess $300 was the magical amount she felt entitled to. 🤷 I was upset that she would do something like this, but I quickly realized that Trudy was the kind of person I needed to just cut ties with. So I agreed to post the videos and articles like we had previously agreed upon, for no payment. I started doing this right away, and yet, of course, it still was not enough. Just a few days later, I was busily working at my job, serving customers in a very long line, when out of the corner of my eye I see a rush of frenzy. I look over, and it's none other than Trudy herself, speed walking to take a spot in line. Right away I knew what this was. I was being ambushed. At my job. She patiently waited in line until she got to the front, where she proceeded to create the following scene in front of my boss, my coworkers, and all our customers. "Hi. We need to talk. You need to choose a time to meet me today because this is getting ridiculous and I'm ready to take this to small claims court." I was shocked. I had been doing the work, like we agreed. I know she had seen it because the system we use to upload files shows me which users view the files, and she was listed under them. I didn't know what to say, so I tried to set up a time we could meet somewhere (somewhere incredibly public obvi) but she insisted that I meet her that very same day, and informed me that she would be coming back in at the time I was getting off to talk. And that, she did. Exactly ten minutes before my shift ended, Trudy and her 12 year old son showed up at my job, and just stood in the lobby waiting for me to get off. Why she brought her son in to witness the disgusting event she was about to create, I'll never know. I actually feel bad for him. Of course, this conversation was entirely one-sided. For whatever reason, she said she had not seen the posts that I had published. Once I had her pull out her phone and look up everything I had posted (making sure she saw that she had definitely seen them before), she gave me a spiel that went something like this... "Well, I still wanted to come up here, because I wanted to talk to you face to face. You haven't returned any of my phone calls*, you aren't replying to my text messages**, and this is ridiculous. If you wanna do that, then you are saying 'fuck you' to me, which is fine, because I'll come and say 'fuck you' right back, except what's different about me is that I'll say it to your face, because I love you*** and love is bigger than that." *She had called me twice, left voicemails each time, and I answered her questions via text. Like I said, I had no interest in speaking to her on the phone **Fake news ***WTF I'm really good at holding my emotions behind my facial expressions, which came in handy that day. There was a lot of nodding, a lot of "yes maam"s and "yes, yes of course"s and anything else I could say to get her to LEAVE ME ALONE. Oh, did I mention she insisted we have this conversation in the lobby of my job, again, in front of all my coworkers and our customers? So I continued on, posting everything she wanted me to. She wanted the entire queue posted, again, without paying me a dime. In her final episode, she said that I didn't edit a video right and left me a voicemail saying she was done trying, and that the next day I would be hearing from her lawyer. She was taking me to court. This was it. And I had already been getting nervous. I couldn't eat. I was having trouble sleeping. I was developing canker sores in my mouth because of the stress. But as I went to work the next day, thinking ENDLESSLY about what she said and about how she was going to be taking me to court, I had a magnificent revelation. I DID NOTHING WRONG. She can't take me to court. I did everything I said I would do, and now I'm doing even more. She has nothing to sue me for except the fact that she was butthurt that I wasn't going to work for her anymore. She was mad because she was wanting to use the nonprofit as a way to make money (confirmed in a conversation we had previously when I was working for her) and now that I was leaving, she didn't have a way to do it. I was exhausted because of Trudy. She was toxic. And at the height of all this, I saw that, and decided I was done. So I texted her back, and said just that. By this point, I had done everything I could. Do you remember back when she told me that my other option was to pay her $300? At one point I actually offered to pay her the money just so she would leave me alone. She declined. Of course. When I texted her back, she decided to call me. I was so over all of this, I decided to just bite the bullet and answer the call. I told her the truth. I told her that her demands were ridiculous, that it's so unproductive to leave me texts and emails and voicemails threatening to sue me every time she finds an issue, compared to just telling me what the problem is. I told her that she was being unreasonable. None of that made her happy. But my last "mistake" really pissed her off. I had edited a video but I hadn't taken out a part where she stumbled over her words at one point, and in her mind this was a conscious mistake I purposely made to spite her. To embarrass her. I assured her that this oversight had less to do with my feelings about her, and everything to do with the fact that I was still putting the new house in order, going back to school, working 5AM shifts, you know, the usual. So, she relented. She told me to just get her her files, and we would be done. But this time, I was the one who wasn't satisfied. I mean, when I say that I was done with toxic relationships, I was DONE. OVER IT. So, I told her that I would do it on one condition. She had to send me a message, saying that after I give her her files on Google Drive, she would never attempt to contact me or my family (Brooke), ever again. In any way. For any reason. That made her even more irate, but she agreed. And that was it. By sunset that night (it was Thanksgiving, actually, go figure) I had a message from her saying that our work was done and she would never contact us again. I haven't heard from her since. The reason I'm writing all of this, is to finally GET IT OUT. I can't tell you how many times I've told this story to no one while driving or sitting at home alone, just to be able to say it and not just think about it. Trudy really messed me up, but in a way, she helped me. She helped me realize that toxic relationships are an awful thing to be involved in, and helped me see how much better life is without them. Since, I've been able to pinpoint other toxic relationships in my life, and cut them off. It's not always as easy, or as obvious as Trudy. But it's heavy, nonetheless.
I'm kind of glad this article is so long. Hopefully, most people will be turned off by its length and turn away without reading more than a paragraph. I'm not writing this to tell you how crazy Trudy is. I just wanted to write this to, symbolically, build an altar, a monument marking a place I've been and have since swiftly left behind.
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Laurel,
I sit here, marveling, on what we believe to be the eve of your birth. I haven't even gotten to lay my eyes on the wonder I already know you are, and yet, baby you have already caused quite a rumble in our lives. One day I will tell you the story of the nine months leading up to your arrival that have truly passed in the blink of an eye. In fact, one day I will tell you of the years and years, and years, that have brought us here, in our cozy little apartment living room anxiously waiting for this precious miracle to finally show her face. Please know that daddy would never use this word, miracle, lightly, by the way. For one day I will tell you tales that begin in hopelessness, in defeat, in shame and many other dark things that in another time had me believing that a man like me could never dream of, let alone care for, a soul as precious as yours. Laurel, please know that while these stories take time to tell, and much longer to live, they will end in hope, in victory, and in light. I say this confidently, because today that man is gone. In his place is someone else entirely; a brave and hopeful man who is still in awe that in mere hours he will finally be able to squeeze your hands, rub your nose, and sing you to sleep. These little gestures may seem insignificant, but if we are telling the truth, they are deep, meaningful moments of intimacy that at one time I forced myself to believe I would never get to experience for myself. Yes, one day this new man will tell you how he came to find himself where he is now, married to the woman of his dreams, waiting for the product of their love to join them in their story. And he will tie these stories up by telling you that one day, you will go on a similar journey (we all have our crosses to carry), and that there are a few things you should know as you do. First, Laurel, your mother is a fighter. A lover. The truest form of beauty I have ever encountered on this earth, in every way imaginable. There will be times you do not want to, but I implore you to listen to what she has to say. Make determined efforts to soak up every word she releases, for it is my belief that nothing can substitute a mother's voice in a daughter's life, and your mother does not let a single word pass her lips that does not hold its weight in meaning and truth. This incredible woman who has the honor of being your mother has so much inside of her to offer you. She will teach you to mind your manners, but dear Laurel, never confuse manners for meekness. Someone in your life may tell you at a young age that girls are meant to hold their tongues, to be quiet and not shake foundations or tear down strongholds. Do not believe them for even a moment. It hurts me already to think that someone could speak so carelessly into your heart, and yet darling they will. But you have already been set aside to accomplish great things in your own way. Don't you dare let anything make you think otherwise. Second, my Laurel, be good to yourself. Love your body not because of the way it looks, but because it is yours, a gift to care for and use diligently, not one to abuse or hate. Love your mind, not because it is perfect or always right, but because it is a tool that will be of great use to you, especially if you are anything like your mother (as we are all secretly really hoping you are). And love your soul, not because it always leads you in the right direction, but merely because it, because you, are worthy of real, true, outrageous love. And finally, you will find that people will take advantage of your sympathetic heart or be judgmental against your fierce spirit. This is something many experience, and yet few learn to work through. It is from my experience of being among the ones who took much longer to learn this lesson that I offer you a final piece of direction I believe you will need to hold near to your heart every day as you navigate the wild, untamed journey you are about go on. Laurel Ember, never hide. It may be frightening, the idea of being known, because revealing the deepest parts of yourself will always afford you the possibility of being misunderstood, and there is no pain quite like the sting of being misunderstood. You will have days and seasons that you know, that you know, it would be easier to just shrink back and not open up about your victories and your failures, your pride and your shame, or your secrets and your surprises. But know this: you. are. worth. knowing. Every piece of you, every dark corner, every secret pushed down in fear is worthy of being known, cared for, loved. Your victories may make you feel proud, but your failures, your struggling, your shortcomings, your personality flaws, your wrestling with ideas others may easily accept are all what make you human. They are what make you real. They are what make you ours, and we could not ask for anything more in a daughter. Do not ask for anything more in yourself. One of my favorite authors, C.S. Lewis is quoted saying, “Since it is so likely that children will meet cruel enemies, let them at least have heard of brave knights and heroic courage.” It is because of this very way of thinking that you will grow up hearing and reading stories of people like Stargirl, Frodo Baggins, Lucy Pevensie, Percy Jackson, Charlie Bucket, Dorothy Gale, Mowgli, Katniss Everdeen, and many other heroes, as you fall asleep letting these voyagers, forerunners, fighters, and lovers invade your dreams and teach you the lessons I can't. Let their stories help you in yours. Your mother and I could not possibly be more excited to meet you than we are right now, spending our final moments as just us, dreaming, laughing, imagining all of the joy and love and fulfillment of once-considered impossible dreams, that you are bringing with your arrival. Tonight, we are a couple. Tomorrow, you will make us a family. Love, Dad I promise, I'm still alive.
A few days ago, a friend of mine asked me for a link to my blog. In passing it along to him, I decided to take a few moments to read the last thing I wrote. I couldn't help but laugh as I read it. You guys, I'm so sorry! Haha! The last time I wrote something on here, I was in the middle of the most confusing, painful, broken time of my life. That was in August of last year, almost six months ago! And I haven't written a word since. Honestly, that was probably what I needed at the time. Like I was telling another good friend recently, it's hard to see, to understand what's happening in a season of your life, when you're actually in that season of life. Aint that the truest. I had no idea what was going on, why I was hurting, why I felt so broken. I knew it had a lot to do with the anger, the coldness, the apathy, and the bitterness that I let take control of me. But I didn't see an end to any of it, or the purpose for it. I think it was good that I stopped writing for a little while. It gave me a moment to stop talking, and to find what I needed to find. An end. And as the year began to wrap itself up, boy did I find it. I began to see how the bitterness and anger was infecting my life, and in that realization, I was able to eradicate it. I changed my perspective of life, of love, of myself, and it was like my whole life changed, In a matter of months I began to see myself not as harsh, cynical, or disturbed, but as strong, and kind, and... Improving. Haha, yes, always improving. I'm under no delusion of grandeur that I am suddenly better or have miraculously made it. But I'm getting better. And that's what I wanted to jump on here to say. I'm getting better! I hate that the last thing I publicly said about myself is that I felt like I was surrounded by darkness. Yes, for a time last year, I was heavy, weighed down by a lot of dark things, but friends the sun did eventually rise! I also wanted to say that this year, I plan on publishing my personal journey, in its entirety. I've shared pieces here and there, but I've been wanting to write a progressive story for a while now, a tool I plan to use to help me process everything, good and bad, that I've been through. The Lord has done so much in my life, and I've been scared to talk about it because my story isn't very...traditional. But it's time. And I'm not afraid anymore, honestly. I think if anything came out of last year, it's that I didn't just learn not to be driven by my fear of being a disappointment, but last year completely wiped it out. And ever since I've noticed that, I haven't felt so alive. Brooke and I were at a friend's house last week having dinner and winning (well Brooke won, at least) at Settlers of Catan with a few other married couples when the subject of fighting with your spouse came up. "It was within the first couple weeks of us being married." Someone said. "He went out and did XYZ after he said he would do 123 and that night I told him he could sleep on the couch." The room sang with quiet laughter. "But..." she continued, "He wouldn't let me do that. He made sure we worked it out." "Well, that' good." Another wife chimed in. "The Bible says not to let the sun set on your anger." And I'm telling you friend, that statement has stuck with me from the very moment she said it. Why? I don't know. Well, I didn't. I mean I've heard that verse over and over since I was a kid. It's been a piece of my marriage philosophy for years. If you get in an argument, make sure you resolve it, or at least apologize, before you go to bed. That's what the simple command is saying to do. Isn't it? Don't go to bed if you're still angry? But I guess the reason I haven't been able to shake that verse from my spirit, my mind, my being, is because right now, for me, it means something different. If you read the past post or two that I've written, you already know the state I am in. Actually, putting out Ruined was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. And really, writing it wasn't the hard part. It was actually very easy, and it felt great. I held all that in for way too long. No, writing it wasn't hard at all. Publishing it. That was the difficult part. Publishing that, and then going to church the next day, made me feel so exposed, so vulnerable, especially considering that I'm still just getting to know the people I go to church with. I felt naked. Truly. The entire service I was pulling and tugging on my clothes, as if they didn't fit right. As if they weren't there. Now there are days that I feel like I am doing better. There are days that I feel like the anger, the pain, the frustration is mostly behind me. But then there are days like today. Days that I am forced to face the crushing reality that I'm still angry. I'm still sour. I'm still so damn confused. Days that I wake up, make breakfast, clean the house, go to the grocery store, and all along feel the weight of thoughts that, despite my willingness to share incredibly personal matters, I am too ashamed to share with you here. Thoughts that have come and have been given permission to sit. To stay a while. Thoughts that have shown me a very difficult truth. I have become everything that I used to hate. Cynical. Rushed. Passive. Mean. Spiteful. ------------------ When we got back from Germany in January, I was tired. I was glad to jut be back home, where I knew I would be able to get the help I was needing. But things didn't go as planned. When we first got back, Brooke and I were attending the church we grew up in. I was excited to be around familiar faces. People who know me, and who I could rekindle relationships with to get some sense of community back. I was actually offered a job on staff, that I joyfully accepted. But I quickly realized that the church I left was not the church I came back to. Nobody here knew me. They knew 10-year-old me. And though I was there for months, excluding the few people my age, (and I mean few literally. Three.), nobody cared to know me. Nobody reached out. I tried to build relationships, but I was just the media guy. I couldn't offer anyone anything but a Facebook shoutout. I longed so much for a community, a tribe, but when a church is overrun by senior citizens and the kind of people who are too spiritual to come back to Earth to talk about a football game, let alone personal problems, it just doesn't work. And so after I realized that I was not the right fit for this place, and after catching wind of a few rumors involving me and a few other friends that had been circulating the congregation, I gave my resignation and started the Pensacola Church Tour 2K17. It wasn't but a few weeks later when we found the church we have decided to attend. And love, honestly, more than any church we have been a part of. I feel like I've been given a clean slate, another chance, to get to know people who haven't known me since I was a child. People who won't know me as "Minita and Darren's son". And yet I've found that this actually scares me. I'm scared that if people meet me, and get to know me in this present state, that I'll have blown it. I'm afraid that they'll see the angry, abrasive Nick before they see the real one. How did this happen? How did I let myself get to such a place of pain, of damage, of anger that I don't even recognize the person I am any longer. Recently I thought of a simple encounter I had with someone three years ago, and nearly broke down in tears at the very thought that a man who used to be so soft, so happy, so kind, had sat and grown over wild with thorns. And that's when the familiar phrase rang once again. Do not let the sun set on your anger. I let the sun set on my anger. And it wasn't in the course of one measly night. After going through the past year, day by day, I continued to allow my issues to remain unresolved. I continued to hide. I continued to pretend like like all was well. I continued to just keep going, treating myself like the work horse others were treating me like as well. I was angry. AndI didn't do anything about it. I let the sun set on my anger. Friend. Do not let the sun set on your anger. On your fear. On your pride. I have no words to craft to tell you difficult it is to find your way after the sun has set. And really, I guess that's why I'm writing this. I know I need to talk about what I've been through, but I'm not at the place where I'm able to talk about this face to face with anyone. At least, I don't think I am. I still cringe every time someone tells me in person how much they liked what I've written. Is that twisted? And I've been too scared to get into any legitimate relationships too quickly, despite my deepest desire to do so. I've been too scared to ask for help, as I know that that would require me to reveal pieces of myself that, even after writing this, I am still hiding. I don't mind if you think this is a plea for attention. I wondered the same thing as I hastily rapped on the letters of my keyboard. I'm not looking for attention. I'm looking for solace. I'm looking for healing. I'm just looking for the sun to rise. I've held all of this in for a long time. But now, after revisiting Germany for a week with a team of missionaries from my alma matter, I know it's high past time to get it out. Germany was a lot harder than I used to let on. Of course, it was an incredible experience. I do not regret going, nor do I think poorly of my time there. In the seven months that Brooke and I lived overseas, we met people who undeniably changed our perspectives, our hearts, and ultimately, our lives. We met generals in the faith who are hidden amongst the mundane motion of everyday life, people who are happy to go unnoticed by men, as long as they are known by God. Those relationships are some of the most beautiful things I hold close to my heart. But Germany was also a landslide of confusion and frustration. And to be honest, I didn't handle it well. At all. But that requires a bit more storytelling to explain. The first few months that we were in Germany, everything was great! I absolutely loved my job. I was leading devotional style classes to Afghani refugees, teaching them about the Bible and it's Author. I was administrating details for conferences, acting as the liaison for the American guests who came to visit the ministry and lead its services. I was leading worship with Brooke, and we were loving it! But something was off. I could tell from the start, but I ignored it. Mistake 1. Ignoring the beginnings of a storm. After about three months, I was spent. Done. I was frustrated by situations and circumstances that really don't even matter for the sake of what I'm telling you now, but at the time, they consumed my peace, my joy, and my resolution. I remember telling Brooke that I just wanted to go home. Maybe if we talked to the pastor, he would release us from our seven month agreement. But the memories of ministry school classes on honor, integrity, loyalty, and commitment came flooding in, too strong to keep me from doing that. Well those memories, as well as Brooke's encouragement and stability. God's grace is the most incredible thing that has ever happened to me, and in my mind, Brooke is an inseparable part of that grace. So Brooke and I talked and came to a solution. The first three months, Brooke's primary job was cooking the meals. Since we housed anywhere from two to twelve refugees at any given time, this was no small feat. And she had been getting a little tired of coming up with new meals, so we had basically been eating pasta every night. Love ya babe, but the kitchen isn't your best place to shine. So we made a trade. I took over the cooking, she took over the office work. Mistake 2. Thinking that changing my outward circumstances would stop the inner storm that was now brewing even stronger. Well time went on, and I got worse. I was still frustrated, angry, and was now headed down a moral decline. I started drinking. A little. I started using profanity. A lot. I was late to every service, and I began isolating myself. Really, isolation doesn't do it justice. I hate to say this, but I got to the point where I would wake up to make breakfast, and go lay back in bed. Then I would get up to make lunch. And go back to bed. Then I would get up to make dinner. And then, I would go back to bed, where I would Netflix until I fell asleep. Only to wake up, and do it all again. And again. And again. I remember thinking, I just can't wait to get back to America, back to my job, my car, my house, my own life. Mistake 3. Thinking that the floods wouldn't follow me. I thought that when I came back to America, I would get better. But I came back to America. And I didn't get better. I was still drinking, though I never got drunk, I only say that to note that morally, I was digressing. I was still using profanity, which I think shows the state of my heart more than anything. And emotionally, I was a nine-car pile up. I felt alone, and sad, and desperate. So desperate, I started looking into therapy, counseling, even emotional support animals. I didn't know what was wrong with me. Until I had dinner with a friend. He noticed my staggering and asked me if I would like to get dinner with him. We had never hung out before, but I was so glad to have another man to connect with, who was wanting to help in my time of need. So I agreed. While we were eating, he began to talk about fears he worked through when he was younger. It was then, that I felt something in my gut kick. I knew there was a connection to what he was saying and what I had just gone through. But what was it? I relentlessly though and prayed about it. It was by that prayer and self-reflection that I realized my answer. And it hit me like a bullet. I am insanely, maddeningly controlled by my fear of disappointing people. And when I realized that, it was like my eyes were opened to everything that had happened. For years, I built a reputation of being a hard worker, a man with high morals and good judgment. But this reputation, this life, it wasn't built on love. I didn't have high morals and a strong work ethic because I loved God, or people, or even myself. I had all these standards because I was afraid that if people saw me as anything less than excellent, they would be disappointed. And to counter that fear, I strived to impress. Well, then, I up and moved to a place where I was alone, working by myself, having nobody to check up on me or see how I was doing. So I crashed. I crashed and burned because my only reason for being excellent was my fear of disappointing people, and in Germany, I had no one to disappoint, and no one to impress. I thought I had built this incredible life, an outstanding reputation for myself, on a solid foundation. What I didn't realize, is that I had built it all on a foundation of sand. So the promised winds and rains, the storm, began to brew. As that old Sunday School song says, the rains came down and the flood came up. And what did my foundation of sand leave me with...but ruins? But it was in this revelation that I was able to change.
For you shall know the truth, and the truth will set you free. Seeing my fears for the first time, allowed me to evict them. I stopped worrying about disappointing people. I stopped striving to impress people. But that didn't undo all of the damage that had already been done. So that leads me to today. I feel like I'm in a very interesting season of life. As if I've woken up, the morning after a storm. The dust has settled, and the sun has started warming the house through the windows. I make my way to the door, hesitating for a moment, knowing I will not like what I see. I take a breath, and turn the doorknob. And now I'm out, looking for everything that's broken, everything that's torn, everything that's missing. I lost my reasoning, my support behind my morality, my work ethic, even the motivation behind my walk with God. But in the end, it was good. Because my motivations were based out of fear. Not love. And now, it's time to rebuild. So I will leave you with my statement of hope. It's something my sister shared with me, not long ago, out of a book someone had given to her. It's a line that went something like this: When you find yourself relapsing, digressing, in a state worse than the one you were previously in, do not despair. You have not lost the progress you made. For what you have gained, you have gained. |
@NickALakatosThe musings of a man who experiences the highest of highs, and the lowest of lows. Archives
January 2018
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