On self-analysis
The darkness of self-analysis…the beginning is both inspiring and frightening, more-so frightening as I come to fully grasp what it is I am embarking upon. And what am I embarking on? A journey of self-exploration. But this isn’t a touristy attraction with a guide that shows me all of the “nice” and scenic areas. There is no guide that shelters me from the dangerous areas. I’m not afforded the luxuries of a resort. I’m thrown into the pit. While I hold myself in a higher esteem, the pit shows me my true colors. I am an equal among these horrid creatures. I am the other. There wretched faces scare me and I tremble at the thought of being in barracks with them. This is the darkness of self-analysis.
It sounds nice. Journey into the unknown to find your greatest treasure. But it is far from nice. It is terrifying. Don’t be fooled. The courage to press on in the face of the darkness isn’t automatic. More often than not the dark actions take its place; denial, resentment, apathy, avoidance, and excuses. At this point I haven’t even entered the arena. I am peering into the darkness and can hear the awful tremblings of the other. But at this point, I realize I am the other which scares me even more. I know that if I walk away now, at least for the immediate future, I will have my salvation from this wretched place. Immediate gratification…one of the darkness’ favorite weapons. And I would be lying if I told you that I faced the darkness and walked into it even with the impending dangers and fear that coarses through my body each time I encounter it. No. More often than not I run away, cowardly and saving face. This only immediately saves me from breaking down. However, it doesn’t save me from a breakdown. That is coming at a later date, one I won’t be prepared for as illustrated by not facing the darkness previously. In combat sports, it is said the greatest fears don’t come when in the midst of the fight, but the moments and hours before entering and beginning the fight. This is similar to the darkness of self-analysis.

What’s even more is the fact that entering into the darkness doesn’t necessarily aid me. The fears come from what I will discover. Like water unknowingly spilling on clothes in your messy car only to be realized weeks later, its stench is rank. At this point one can do a full overhaul of the insides of the car to vanquish the smell while doing a full detail on the clothing in attempts to salvage it. Another option is to delay the cleaning because of the work involved. What one does in times of discovery through the darkness of self-analysis reveals the makings of a hero. We are not what we think and feel. We are what we do. As I discover the actions of my past, it begins to cause a panic. This panic starts with an increase in heart rate. But I don’t notice that. I notice my breathing becomes shallow and my mind begins to become chaotic; the beginning’s of crazy. If only I could treat the panic of discovery the way someone who is allergic treats a reaction, I could stab myself back into calmness. Alas, this is not the case. I can only make painstakingly small changes to rectify the entrenched smell of neglect. A neglect that comes in the form of many things, none of which are favorable to face off with. Where do I start? If I start at X instead of Y and still have the rest of the alphabet how in the absolute fuck will I make any progress? Is it even worth it? The ingredients of anxiety, depression, and the ultimate choice of suicide are being manufactured, bought, and laid on the table ready to be cooked and eaten.
But I have a choice. It is continuing this process of avoidance until enough is enough, to the darkness of self-analysis, and then to the decision. Compound the interest of deciding to run away enough and I am left with the recipe for depression. But this is a conscious decision to step into this realm of existence. Past behavior predicts future behavior and we are not what we think and feel but what we do. If my past behavior has been riddled in fear and running away with periods of courage where I come away with great understanding of myself and ultimately some greater truths, it might be enough to make the decisions to be courageous more often. The acts of courage are at times, extremely tedious and can leave me feeling like I want more of a challenge. But how can great things be done if not for doing small things? And this is a revelation from the darkness — not this truth but the things in which I have glossed over. This is where panic can set in because it feels like I am behind, always playing catch up to zero. But maybe that is why we root for the underdogs. They are scratching and clawing from behind. Some of the time there looks to be absolutely no chance in the most perfect of circumstances for the underdog to come out on top. And most of the time this is true. But that doesn’t stop us from rooting for the underdog to overtake the perceived master of the duel. And when and if the underdog comes out victorious, it is a grand celebration. Everyone talks about it. It’s a spectacle of the ages. A lot of times, it is forgotten soon after however. And in my case, there is no audience. I alone stand in the arena against myself. This is because now the underdog must continue. Show me this isn’t a fluke. Continue to press on. Can I continue this process? Can I take the blows to the head over and over and continue to get up? Can I walk forward with tears running down my face and dirt covering me from head to toe? Can I continue when all around me seems to be falling apart? Can I? And for what? What is to be won in this fight for myself?
He who has a why can overcome just about any how. So if I am to accept this mission, the infinite war with myself, there must be a reason why. The first thing that comes to mind is the feeling of knowing I am avoiding taking action. This feeling festers and builds up. If it is allowed to run train on my nervous system I know where it will lead. People will run faster when being chased than when chasing. This fear is not unlike the darkness. So running away from the fear of knowing I am a failure of being the light I am capable of being with a lifetime’s full of effort, even understanding that by undertaking this mission guarantees no success and no real worldly rewards, my why starts to reveal itself. I am scared to be that person. I am scared to be the person that was scared to face the darkness. What is even scarier is one day out of the blue having this realization thrust upon me with much of my time wasted.
I do not know what is to happen of me. I am unsure of where the darkness will lead. But I have felt the power of momentum in my life. And if I can remember this power and use it to my advantage day in and day out when all hope around me is gone, I have a fighting chance. This tragic comedy is one we all live. I think I’ve allowed myself to go with the flow too often. While fluidity is life and fixation is death there is something to be said about being both. Fixated on facing the darkness while knowing when to rest. Fluid enough to change course but fixated long enough to know when that time arrives. I feel like a fraud many days as a coach and perceived leader. All of this going on, all of the things I ask and speak about yet I am failing in so many ways. The dichotomy can be painful. But I don’t wish to be thought of as a sympathetic character. This is a neutral war. And sides are not to be taken. May the best win. But it begs the question…if the ego (like I believe it is) is an illusion and there to scare me from doing what I know needs to be done, who am I fighting?

