So… It’s been a bit.
And, if you have not read these before, hello. How are you? Hope you are doing well.
If you have not yet, I strongly encourage reading the posts titled “The Super Hero and Failman.” It will help you understand this particular post a little bit more.
So, without further adieu, I need to get on with it. I feel the need to explain those posts from a non-dramatized, real-world view. I need to kind of put myself out there, in hopes to help others, as I try to do with any of my posts, as well as give myself a little therapy.
A lot has happened, during and since that little story. To protect the innocent, what I will say is that there has been a bit of family drama in my life, and there was an event that happened, which I give a glimpse of in the first Failman post, that shook me to my core and broke me. I had a nervous breakdown. I was like a china shop that was destroyed in the worst hurricane ever known in human history. I had never felt so broken and useless. I was just about ready to give up on everything. I was ready to commit social suicide (not actual suicide) and walk away from everyone and everything in my life. I felt that all I was ultimately doing in my attempts to help those that I hold dear, I was actually hurting them more than helping them. I felt that it was a logical decision to remove myself from everyone, and never come back again, and maybe, just maybe, the world would be better off with this guy in their life. However, something happened.
What happened during this period of self-loathing and pity and at the height of my mental breakdown still surprises me, and makes it hard for me to talk to certain people (you know who you are if you are reading this). And, it happened with a touch. I grabbed my daughter’s hand, and the next thing I knew I was an observer in my own body, watching the events unfold as if I was a patron in a movie. Visions of the past, present, and future flashed, words that I did not understand fully were spoken (even though they were plain English). Calls were made, and spirits were felt. It was a hair raising and downright confusing experience for my family, my mentor and friend, and myself. When it was done, all I can say is that I slept, and then woke up knowing that something happened, but not remembering all the steps that took me there.
Since this strange episode, I moved into a new place with my family, and I am attempting to find who I am again. As the story states, my mind palace, which I had cultivated and filled with different things over the years was completely destroyed, and the darkness that I had harbored since childhood no longer haunts me, making me feel as though I am a poor excuse of a Dr. Jekyll. I am a semi-empty shell attempting to find who I am once again, and what my role on this planet is supposed to be. I am starting over and remaking all the rules, and as Mark Manson suggests with his book, “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck,” I am trying to choose the right things to give a f*ck about. I stand now at a fork in the road, and I have a choice. I can choose to take the low road, which is a well traveled and paved road that has a guaranteed ETA to my destination and known spots to stop and see along the way, or I can take the high road, which is a road that is rugged and treacherous and filled with unforeseen peril and excitement. Supposedly, there are some really cool things to see on that road, but many call them a tall tale. Only those that have traveled the road know the truth.
What I want you to consider from this and the story of the Super Hero and Failman is this: you are not succeeding until you are failing and managing those failures with your successes evenly. For every success or good deed or excellent outcome, there has to be a string of failures left in its wake. Success is the hero that we should all see as the villain it is, and failure is the villain that we should see as the hero of growth and forward movement. Success is a serial killer. Once you have achieved success, you have achieved a form of perfection that is fake and heartless. Those who have success have the money and the cars and the lifestyle that they want, sure. Many of them, who have chosen to live only with success, also have unhappiness, loss of privacy, and a false sense of self. Only those who know how to string in some failures and bad choices, and manage them correctly, seem to have the true happiness. They have learned what they should focus their attention on, and they never stop learning, because you have to fail to learn. If you think this is wrong, feel free to tell me how.
I still have not recovered for my little event, and I still wrestle with the thought that I am a burden to those in my life, but I feel a little bit more secure in where I am going to go next. It is going to take time to heal from what I feel is the biggest failure that I have committed to date, and understand where it puts me. I hope to be better and bring you along my journey, and hopefully bring you some thoughts to consider in your own life. Thank you for sticking with me, and good luck to you in your own world.
And, if you have not read these before, hello. How are you? Hope you are doing well.
If you have not yet, I strongly encourage reading the posts titled “The Super Hero and Failman.” It will help you understand this particular post a little bit more.
So, without further adieu, I need to get on with it. I feel the need to explain those posts from a non-dramatized, real-world view. I need to kind of put myself out there, in hopes to help others, as I try to do with any of my posts, as well as give myself a little therapy.
A lot has happened, during and since that little story. To protect the innocent, what I will say is that there has been a bit of family drama in my life, and there was an event that happened, which I give a glimpse of in the first Failman post, that shook me to my core and broke me. I had a nervous breakdown. I was like a china shop that was destroyed in the worst hurricane ever known in human history. I had never felt so broken and useless. I was just about ready to give up on everything. I was ready to commit social suicide (not actual suicide) and walk away from everyone and everything in my life. I felt that all I was ultimately doing in my attempts to help those that I hold dear, I was actually hurting them more than helping them. I felt that it was a logical decision to remove myself from everyone, and never come back again, and maybe, just maybe, the world would be better off with this guy in their life. However, something happened.
What happened during this period of self-loathing and pity and at the height of my mental breakdown still surprises me, and makes it hard for me to talk to certain people (you know who you are if you are reading this). And, it happened with a touch. I grabbed my daughter’s hand, and the next thing I knew I was an observer in my own body, watching the events unfold as if I was a patron in a movie. Visions of the past, present, and future flashed, words that I did not understand fully were spoken (even though they were plain English). Calls were made, and spirits were felt. It was a hair raising and downright confusing experience for my family, my mentor and friend, and myself. When it was done, all I can say is that I slept, and then woke up knowing that something happened, but not remembering all the steps that took me there.
Since this strange episode, I moved into a new place with my family, and I am attempting to find who I am again. As the story states, my mind palace, which I had cultivated and filled with different things over the years was completely destroyed, and the darkness that I had harbored since childhood no longer haunts me, making me feel as though I am a poor excuse of a Dr. Jekyll. I am a semi-empty shell attempting to find who I am once again, and what my role on this planet is supposed to be. I am starting over and remaking all the rules, and as Mark Manson suggests with his book, “The Subtle Art of Not Giving a F*ck,” I am trying to choose the right things to give a f*ck about. I stand now at a fork in the road, and I have a choice. I can choose to take the low road, which is a well traveled and paved road that has a guaranteed ETA to my destination and known spots to stop and see along the way, or I can take the high road, which is a road that is rugged and treacherous and filled with unforeseen peril and excitement. Supposedly, there are some really cool things to see on that road, but many call them a tall tale. Only those that have traveled the road know the truth.
What I want you to consider from this and the story of the Super Hero and Failman is this: you are not succeeding until you are failing and managing those failures with your successes evenly. For every success or good deed or excellent outcome, there has to be a string of failures left in its wake. Success is the hero that we should all see as the villain it is, and failure is the villain that we should see as the hero of growth and forward movement. Success is a serial killer. Once you have achieved success, you have achieved a form of perfection that is fake and heartless. Those who have success have the money and the cars and the lifestyle that they want, sure. Many of them, who have chosen to live only with success, also have unhappiness, loss of privacy, and a false sense of self. Only those who know how to string in some failures and bad choices, and manage them correctly, seem to have the true happiness. They have learned what they should focus their attention on, and they never stop learning, because you have to fail to learn. If you think this is wrong, feel free to tell me how.
I still have not recovered for my little event, and I still wrestle with the thought that I am a burden to those in my life, but I feel a little bit more secure in where I am going to go next. It is going to take time to heal from what I feel is the biggest failure that I have committed to date, and understand where it puts me. I hope to be better and bring you along my journey, and hopefully bring you some thoughts to consider in your own life. Thank you for sticking with me, and good luck to you in your own world.
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