Kicking off My Happy Movement
It’s starting to feel more real here now. The fear of being away from the familiar city, surrounded by family and friends, from the security blanket or handcuffs of a well-paying job that was killing me silently yet loudly, slowly yet quickly. The distance between the monotonous ebb and flow of what my life had become is now further away from what it is today. Don’t get me wrong, the homesickness — is that even a word? — hits me in the early morning hours like a freight train travelling at high speeds, but with a few deep breaths, coupled by self-conducted pep talks, bring me back to zero and keep the anxiety demons at bay. It’s ok…it’s always ok.
Living in fear was a passenger that I was never cognizant of and it had become not just a social contributor but a cultural one too. I see it in members of my family and some friends. I see it here in my new environment, half-way across the world, where even the simplest task or idea is followed by some sort of superstition or bad outcome. Constantly prescribed to us by some fear mongering dealer getting us all hooked on the debilitating drug. I’ve decided to finally kick that bad habit along with many other synthetic and illicit ones I incurred to deal with my spiralling existence, and stop allowing it affect my life. Fear is something I never allowed past me growing up…well to an extent anyway. For some reason during the last 5 years, it infiltrated what I thought was a Teflon exterior I worked so rigorously to condition.
After a lot of self-reflection, I came to the conclusion that most of my struggle was due to the extreme depression, anxiety and unhappiness in my job. I was in a situation where I felt “secure” in my life. For the first time I had money, stability, financial freedom to indulge however I wanted to and I had an abundance of independence. What I didn’t realize was that the security slowly constructed a wall of fear, a wall that brick by brick kept dreams at bay, healthy risks out of the question and spontaneity a thing of the past and only for the free-spirited and foolish. What I failed to see was I still am the free-spirited bird but somewhere; somehow, my wings became tied up. I lost my way like a little lamb from the rest of the herd, or did I for the first time in my life, become part of the herd? It was then that I realized that I had stopped growing as a person. I contracted a mental and spiritual illness that stunted their expansion and the side-effects read like a pharmaceutical commercial: “will cause feelings of being lost, lonely, fear, anxiety, depression, paranoia, self-destruction, chest pain, insomnia, dry mouth…oh and constipation.” YIKES!
I am one of those people that get in the middle of arguments I shouldn’t get involved in. I pull over on the side of the road if someone’s car breaks down, or help the lost citizen find their way around my city. Yes, I find purpose in helping others and self-sacrificing. My job afforded me to be that serially altruistic person for everyone in my city. I helped people in their darkest, scariest, saddest and sometimes most violent moments and I was very good at it. A time came where I was no longer able to bounce back from my compassion exhaustion and I could no longer refill my own tank. To top it all off, grief barged its way into my family like an evil, loud, belligerent, unforgiving, unwelcome guest that has no intention of leaving. Losing my Dad, my best-friend, was the pivotal point for me. The stresses of my already very stressful job became more apparent and beyond manageable. Still, the most challenging part of it all was figuring out how I was going to go on without my Dad.
Life no longer made sense and despair and heartbreak took over all my senses. That moment in time would have been the perfect opportunity for me to really delve into my secret “rock star life” that I created many years ago, but I decided self-reflection and choosing a new path was the better thing to do. I took a stand and stopped my alcohol and drug abuse, not without moments of climbing the walls of course, but with the proper help I am fortunate enough to say I pulled myself off that crazy train. It wasn’t until I stepped out of my dark hole that I realized how much damage and harm I had caused to myself. My dedication to turning things around was so fierce that 95% of the time I cannot see myself in that life again. I know, I know, I’m still working on the other 5%…hey! Rome wasn’t built in a day right? Most importantly, I was able to feel my grief. Each and every difficult stage and realization. I still struggle, I still cry, but most of the time I fondly walk down memory lane and I am so grateful to have an endless amount of great memories with my Dad.
All these impacts on my life brought me to where I am today. Unemployed, 35 years old, single…you must be thinking these are not positive attributes, oh but they are! I took a leap of faith, packed up and left my home to embark on an international adventure of a lifetime and true being. As I write these thoughts while sitting on a beautiful beach in Europe, I am for the first time in a very long time…happy. Ever reflecting on my trials and tribulations, my gains and positive experiences, my loves and loses, keeping score of my skeletons in the closet — some of them can tell you some pretty hilarious stories! — I am grateful for every day I get to feed my Happy Movement!
I hope you are living yours and if you are not…What the heck are you waiting for!?!
