Surviving an Existential Crisis While the World Burns
Embracing self-forgiveness after hitting bottom and finding light in the darkest moments
I am a 33 year old artist and multiple heart surgery survivor.
My surgeries were far from perfect, and I now live with chronic illness as a result of complications. I’ve dealt physical and emotional obstacles I would never wish for anyone to experience on their own.
Yet, I can say with confidence that I am the most content and at peace I’ve ever been in my life. How did I get to this point?
Thankfully before these dramatic health events occurred, I was already shifting away from an old identity that was marred by a lifetime of deep-rooted negative patterns.
I was in the midst of change.
But what was I changing from?
For most of my life I was a leech.
I would cling to relationships, bands, places, and experiences, using these externalities as a mask. Unlike a mask you could remove, I made them my identity.
When any of these areas would shift or fall apart — which they did — it would put me into crisis. These situations would tear me apart.
With all my strength, I would try to prevent these changes from happening, despite knowing they weren’t good for me.
Even in periods of stability, the fear of change would always get the best of me, contributing to the development of many negative behaviors that I held (and still hold) so much shame about.
I tend to easily overanalyze what I say, worry about how I’m perceived by others, ruminate, over-apologize, take unnecessary blame, and be extremely self-critical (i could make this a much longer list if I wanted).
Years and years of this led to growing anxiety and depression.
I hit bottom in the winter of 2020.
After many years of indecision and struggling to find purpose, I finally moved from Delaware to Philadelphia. Shortly after relocating, I decided to end a long-term relationship. From my perspective, we were caught in a toxic anxious-avoidant attachment style dynamic.
The twist is, we were in a popular local band together.
We had a gig booked that was only a week away, and I agreed to still play it. At the show, I proceeded to take shot after shot at the bar to calm my nerves (for context, I’m a lightweight).
There was someone in attendance who had added a lot of tension by crossing many of my personal boundaries while I was in the relationship. Although she did not invite him, I still felt wronged by his presence.
Emotionally, I am typically a very gentle, open, self-proclaimed “soft boy.” But I’d cope with alcohol and substances, and it’d pull the worst out in me. Sobriety isn’t something that I’d seriously start to explore until early 2024.
I was so unhappy with my life and in a fragile state.
In that moment, I only felt white-light impulsive pain turned to anger.
I publicly got the owner to kick the person and his friend out of the bar.
I played the set, stone-faced, shit-housed, and pissed.
Immediately after we finished, I quit the band right there on stage.
An entire room of people saw this happen.
All of them suddenly involved in my most vulnerable moment.
Most of them not taking my side and confused by my actions.
Dealing with the consequences of this decision was unbearable.
The convergence of moving to a new city, leaving a relationship, quitting one of my main creative projects, and feeling ostracized all at once was profoundly impactful. This blatant symbolism of stripping away the external identities I had clung to, thrust me into a depressive spiral where I couldn’t forgive myself.
I did not want to exist.
Only a month later, the pandemic occurred.
This isolation in lockdown was drowning.
Putting fuel on an already raging fire.
All of my negative behaviors and patterns were now on fucking steroids.
Everything had fallen apart.
My life was in free fall.
I had nothing.
Groundlessness.
It was a few months into the pandemic, in my darkest moments, that a close friend gave me a copy of Pema Chödrön’s “When Things Fall Apart.”
The timing couldn’t have been more fitting. Everything I had just experienced seemed to be encapsulated perfectly in that title.
It felt like the universe was playing a cruel joke on me, like the next book I’d receive would be “Surviving an Existential Crisis While the World Burns.” Regardless, I am so thankful that he gave it to me when he did.
In this book, Pema describes groundlessness as the feeling of not having a solid, reliable foundation to stand on. It’s an experience of uncertainty and impermanence, where one realizes that there is no fixed point of reference or stability in life.
By accepting groundlessness, we can develop resilience and openness, allowing ourselves to navigate life’s challenges with a more flexible and compassionate mindset.
All of this resonated with me to my core.
What I was experiencing as being in free fall towards a never-ending bottom, was now being normalized in her writing. I now had the awareness that we are ALL in free fall in our own unique ways.
This especially being true during covid.
This realization created an opening.
I was no longer stuck in a cave with no light, but a tunnel.
A tunnel with the tiniest glimmer of light coming out the other end.
It was during this time period that I made the choice to begin the very, very long and slow walk towards this light.
Reflections
In this journey of self-discovery and healing,
I’ve learned that embracing change and uncertainty is crucial for growth. Understanding that identity is fluid and ever-changing has helped me shed old patterns and embrace new possibilities. A crucial part of my healing has been learning to forgive myself for my mistakes, realizing that many of my fears of being ostracized were blown out of proportion in my own head. The benefits of learning to let go have been transformative, allowing me to release the heavy burden of guilt and regret.
The Importance of Self-Compassion
It’s important to note that being open about my experiences doesn’t excuse my actions. I hurt people along the way, and I caused concern for many loved ones who tried to help.
While my own pain and opinions are valid and deserve to be expressed, this isn’t simply a matter of being right or wrong in any situation. I can’t speak for anyone else; all I can do is take accountability for my actions. Regardless, I am deeply sorry to those impacted by these negative and emotional patterns.
Self-compassion has been a cornerstone of my healing process. Learning to be kind to myself, especially during moments of failure and self-doubt, has been transformative. This shift in perspective has allowed me to navigate life’s ups and downs with a more gentle and forgiving mindset, reducing the harsh self-criticism that once dominated my thoughts.
Embracing Vulnerability and Connection
One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned is the power of vulnerability. By opening up about my struggles and imperfections, I have been able to connect more deeply with others and foster a sense of community. This journey has taught me that vulnerability is not a weakness but a strength that allows for genuine connections and mutual understanding. It’s through these connections that we find support and empathy, making the journey less lonely and more meaningful.
Learning About Relationship Attachment Styles
Understanding relationship attachment styles has also played a critical role in my healing process. Recognizing that I had an anxious attachment style was a significant revelation. I realize that not loving myself and lacking a sense of individual purpose made me easily jealous, upset, and anxious. Owning up to my own flaws has been a humbling experience. This awareness has provided insight into my past behaviors and relationships, allowing me to develop healthier relationship dynamics and improve my communication skills.
The Benefits of Sobriety
Though I am currently only a few months into sobriety, abstaining from some of my vices has been another empowering aspect of my journey. I still find myself craving old habits, whether out of routine or boredom, but I’m learning to not indulge those urges.
Having a sober partner in my current romantic relationship has been a huge help, providing support and understanding as we navigate this path together.
Although life still presents plenty of challenges, I’ve been able to face them with a newfound sense of clarity.
Continuous Growth and Learning
This journey is far from over. I did not heal just from reading one book.
I am still learning, evolving, and uncovering new layers of myself. The path to self-acceptance and healing is ongoing, requiring patience and dedication. Each step forward, no matter how small, is a victory in itself.
I am proud of the strides I’ve made.
By the end of 2021, I found the strength to open myself up to another person, using newly learned skills and a lot of hard work on both sides to foster a healthy connection.
I couldn’t be more blessed to now call her my fiancé.
As I continue to explore and share my experiences, I hope to inspire others to embark on their own journeys of self-discovery and growth.
I cant wait to explore more topics on music, health, identity, spirituality, resilience, addiction, personal growth, love, relationships & purpose.
May we all find and be receptive to our own light in moments of need.
❤
About the author:
I’m a 33-year-old artist and multiple heart surgery survivor. Learning to love myself while living with chronic illness. Exploring music, health, identity, spirituality, resilience, addiction, personal growth, and purpose.
If you enjoyed this piece and want to follow more of my journey, please follow my page or find me on all the socials — IG/X/Threads @bohemianaorta
