Present Me (2025)

I want to try something because I have fallen into a rut with my writing recently since trying to do it again after a very long hiatus. I have realized as I have begun having more drive to create and also reading all of the amazing content here since I joined that something is missing from my work that I used to have. It has lost a lot of its vitality, kind of like my life had for at least about 10 to 15 years. I have trouble finding the place in me that allowed me to write bad poetry and slowly improve as I wrote more and more, that allowed me to begin drawing so long ago and slowly get better and better. I have lost the spark of life that makes me want to participate in this grand drama that is such a beautiful gift that we so often squander.

I sat down to try to write a post but instead looked through old, saved things, mostly rantings and venting that I never really intended to share but that served as a therapeutic exercise, a cathartic release. However, when reading through these I was captivated at the realness and authenticity I was exhibiting, the vulnerability that comes from writing something without the thought of others reading it. So now I want to share it with you. The reason is that I am starting to see it is the things we feel some hesitation about sharing, the things that I feel the need to hide away as if I don’t struggle with them that are the most liberating things to share, and that can actually allow other imperfect people the ability not only to feel less alone in their struggles, but also relate to me. Below is the post in its entirety with no edits. I wanted to preserve the sentiment I wanted to capture back then as an exercise that aligns with my healing journey I have been on lately. I want to sit with my past self and offer it the benefit of the new awareness and perspective I have and give it the love I couldn’t give myself back then. I’ve seen myself in such negative ways for so long because I wasn’t perfect and consequently have reinforced a cycle of toxic shame leading to a doubling down on all the unhealthy coping mechanisms, I’ve employed to handle the pain it caused me. I am ready to release that toxic shame and bring what is hidden in the darkness into the light because I know that is the only way to find healing. I am hopeful that someone, somewhere can relate to this past me. If you resonate with these words, I want to encourage you that even if it feels impossible in this moment you can find healing, despite how messy and convoluted the path might be to getting there. The last four words of this post hit me like a ton of bricks and resonated so deeply with something I have just recently remembered that I am the only person responsible for how my life is going, as well as my emotional, physical, and spiritual well-being. But to quote a book that has been instrumental in my evolution lately called No More Mr. Nice Guy by Robert Glover, Nice Guys are slow learners and quick forgetters.

Past Me (2014)

My life is a joke, that has long since stopped being funny. I am 25 years old, living with my dad. My dad has been unemployed for a couple years now. He is not seeking work, he has all but given up it seems. I am not judging him for it, just stating facts. I feel like giving up every day. I don’t know what keeps me going anymore. I hate my job. The company I work for is new and small, and in my opinion is run quite poorly. I do not feel valued there. I want to find something new but the thought of looking stresses me out. I honestly don’t feel there are going to be many jobs I can find that won’t stress me out.

I do not work especially hard, I guess that is one thing I can say. It’s not necessarily difficult work, there are just many aspects of it that annoy and frustrate me. I somehow have always ended up working in customer service positions. I don’t especially dislike people. When I am in the right frame of mind, I can even be very helpful, but the problem is I seem to very rarely be in the right frame of mind lately. I am stressed as soon as I walk in the door there and for the next several hours that I am there I maintain a level of anxiety that makes me not very friendly, not overly helpful beyond what I can force myself to do. The bare minimum of interaction is all I can muster. I cannot make small talk; I cannot be comfortable. I am always preoccupied, thinking of what a failure I am to be working a dead-end job at 25 making 9 bucks an hour. It makes me feel pathetic. I guess having a job is better than not, but sometimes I wonder. Everyone else in my household just sits at home all day and does whatever. I like being able to have my own money, but I can’t even enjoy that because I am always worried about the debt from student loans, my credit card…etc. Also, the money is nice but being miserable day in and day out working there is not so nice.

I feel trapped here, like I will never be able to afford to be on my own. I feel like a complete fuck up. I feel like I have no future except a pathetic and depressing one stuck here watching my dad sink further into drink and despair, and watching my brother get high all day and flip out from time to time. I honestly feel that in addition to my own struggles I carry the pain of knowing what they are going through also. Despite the fact that they annoy me sometimes, it hurts me to see what they are going through. It hurts me to know that my brother is not with his daughter.

All around me is pain, pain from the weariness that the world brings. Life can really suck sometimes. Lately, I have been in the worst state emotionally that I have been since I can remember. The only thing that might compare was when I went through my first heartbreak. It’s hard to remember details now or how exactly I felt at the time, but I recall not wanting to eat, not wanting to get up in the morning. Feeling as if nothing mattered and life sucked.

I feel very similar lately. I do not enjoy many things I used to enjoy. I find it difficult to enjoy anything lately. Instead, my mind constantly dwells on all the things I have done wrong, all the things that suck about my life, all the things I should be doing better. This goes on until I feel utterly hopeless and despondent. I just want to stop being. I do not feel suicidal, just exhausted with life and all its demands and problems.

I chose to drop out of school, and part of me regrets it, but another part of me regrets more having went. I wish so much that I would have stopped after getting my associates, before I accumulated all the debt trying to get a bachelor’s degree. I rushed into going to university because I thought it was the next logical step after getting my associates degree. I should have taken some time. Kept working, tried to find a little better job, and thought long and hard about whether I should pursue more education.

How many young people my age are in the same boat because college is just seen as the thing to do. Who cares if you know what you want to do, just go for several years, waste tons of money, get in debt, and hopefully you’ll end up with a degree that you can get a job with. It’s such a joke. What the hell is wrong with this place. I want out. I just can’t stand so many things about how the world is. I know the world could care less what I think, and it’s definitely not going to change on account of me, but I just don’t really care to be a part of all the insanity.

We work our lives away, because it’s what we’re told is right. Punch the clock, day in day out. And for what. I exhaust so much mental energy just trying not to go crazy at work that when I get home, I don’t want to do anything. On my days off I don’t feel like doing anything. I don’t want to spend money because I am afraid, I’ll run out. I am so afraid of so many things. So much so that life has lost any semblance of wonder or joy it once held for me. It is now only a world of loss and disappointment. Of strife and struggle. Of oppression and fear.

I want to draw again, but the thought drains me mentally and I just don’t. I want to play music, learn more on the piano. I would like to be able to teach someone what I know about anything. To find someone patient and willing who I could share knowledge I have with. I realized earlier that I don’t have to be a total expert in order to benefit someone else. I know a lot of things that someone else may not, things I just take for granted because I have learned them. However, to the right person who does not know these things I could help them.

Of course, they could just do like I did and learn themselves. Google, or watch YouTube videos. But some people are not the type to be able to do that, I guess.

I always worry about my car breaking down, about being a 30-year-old loser with no future living with his dad, about my teeth, about my brother, about my dad, about my sister. I worry and worry, and I know it can’t be good for me, but I feel helpless to stop it.

It’s gotten to the point that I feel my personality slipping away, like I can’t even just relax and be myself anymore. I am kind of dreading going to see Jonathan this week because I am scared for them to see what I have become. Maybe I’ll be able to put on a fake smile and not bum them out. But pretending is getting very difficult. I find though that no one really cares.

I am my own worst enemy. I am the one who torments myself. I am the bringer of destruction to my body and mind. I am the problem