Hi, friends.
As most of you know, 2014 was a difficult year. It wasn’t just 2014, really, but the span of time from end end of 2011 to 2014. I doubt too many people really knew that, even folks quite close to me.
It’s been more than two years since, and most of those two years was consumed by frequent – often multiple times a day – instances of paralyzing depression or blinding rage. I’d often wake up in the middle of the night, unable to return to sleep (already sleep-deprived from Mr. K). I had my first panic attack a while back – or at least what felt like it, where the frustration and anger spiraled and spiraled, in a way where I felt like I was genuinely losing my mind.
A few months ago, I talked to a therapist about this, because after two+ years, I had no way of reconciling my feelings on my own. My life had gotten away from me, I was consumed by regret and anger, and I saw no hope for things to get better.
The guy’s name is Michael Schmiek, and if you’re looking for a therapist, I’d highly recommend him.
One of the problems was that so much of my life was intertwined with this event, and the people involved in it, including what I’d consider one of the “principle antagonists” that I couldn’t talk openly about how I felt. I had to temper things with caveats about my perception of events, or yeah, but… But the issue was ultimately that there wasn’t *anyone* I could talk about this openly with who either understood the situation but was distant enough from it, or who didn’t understand the situation but could give me input that I’d consider “valid” – not a friend who didn’t have all the context, who’d invariably have been on my side. (By the way, for those of you who were, or are, or one day might be, good fucking god, I love you all.)
But the end result was I couldn’t talk to anyone about this in a way that felt honest to me. Who could react in a way that felt honest. Who could provide perspective, but also validation. And lucky enough, earlier this year, Michael was the right guy at the right time.
The problem with anger is that it’s self-fueling. It burns and burns. In a way, it feels righteous to be consumed by it. It invigorates you as it destroys you. The same with depression, in a way – though to the other extreme. It feels good to destroy yourself.
I was stuck in this loop of anger and depression. There were moments where I felt fine. Spending time with the kids, then later trying to start Wonderspark – those things took my mind off it for a bit. But struggling with Wonderspark only fueled the flames. I was only in the position to start from scratch because I had to start from scratch.
But so I talked to Michael. I told him my side of the story. I told him how I felt. How betrayed I felt. How let down I felt. How abandoned I felt. How people I’d fought for had stabbed me in the back. How the most important thing in my life, other than my family, ended with a void of nothingness. Not even a good bye from most.
And how much it sucked now, for all the reasons that it sucked. Because that betrayal didn’t fade, it burned. How I was constantly reminded of it, everywhere. How any little thing could ruin me for weeks at a time.
And how angry I am now.
But he talked to me for a while, and he gave me an assignment that I really didn’t understand in the moment, but grabbed onto anyway.
“Process your anger into sadness.”
Sadness for what you’ve lost.
Sadness for what might have been.
It felt strange, to me. I wasn’t sad. I was angry. Even when I was depressed, I wasn’t *sad*. I was despondent.
But over time I worked at it. I thought about it. I let it soak in. And I finally got it.
Anger burns. It fuels its own fire.
Sadness fades. It has to, or we’d all grow older and older overwhelmed by the grief that accumulates with time.
I was angry about being betrayed. I was angry about being let down and abandoned. I was angry about the potential future I’d lost. I was angry about the injustice of it all, how bad people prospered at my expense with literally no consequence to themselves.
But in time, it’s changed.
I’m sad about being betrayed. I put my trust in certain people, worked very hard for them, in some cases people I really considered friends, and it turns out that was a waste of time. Not because it was the wrong thing to do, but because I sacrificed for the wrong people. I refuse to believe that I shouldn’t have done what I did. That’s who I am, and changing that would make me a worse person. The thing I get out of that is I know what I value in myself. I know what I will be resolute and uncompromising about. I know why I will be that way, and I value that in myself. It is who I am and who I want to be.
I’m sad about being let down. I understand the circumstances, and I understand the motivation. It still sucks being abandoned by people you considered friends. I had one of the worst things that could have happened to me happen to me, and most of the people I’d have fought tooth and nail for saw the whole thing happen and didn’t even bat an eyelash in response. Profited off of my professional demise, or then went back to their jobs as though nothing happened. It sucks. Doesn’t feel very good. I wish I’d worked with people who reciprocated the kind of devotion I felt for them, and those are the only people I’ll work with in the future. Lesson learned.
I’m sad about losing this thing I thought was such an important part of who I was. But I learned that it is not who I am.. And so in a way, I’m happy. I am now who I want to be. I understand why what happened happened, and I know both what I’d do differently and why, and I also know, very concretely, what I would absolutely not change. I am more confident in who I am. What I believe. What I value, and the extent to which I would sacrifice to maintain my integrity and character. I’ve had the good fortune to have been tested, and to have learned that I like who I am, what I stand for, what I believe in, and what I will fight for. I went through my personal hell, and it didn’t break me.
I made some stupid mistakes. But they were small stupid mistakes in service of a much larger, more important goal for me. I regret being stupid. I don’t regret pursuing the goal to the extent that I could. I always said that I don’t mind sticking my neck out for people. I knew one day it’d get my head cut off.
Integrity matters to me more than prestige or money. Friendships matter to me more than my job. Honesty and fairness and justice matter to me more than “success”. I’ve learned those things about myself in a very not-theoretical way, where more was on the line than I’d ever have dreamed of. I don’t think most people get the chance I did.
I’m sad about the things that I learned. I’m sad that liars succeed. I’m sad that some relationships weren’t what I thought, or that those people lacked the character I believed they had. But that is what it is. I used to be angry about it, and it consumed me. Now I am sad about it, and have excised those people from my life entirely.
And it fades.
The thing I walk away from this with is a better understanding of myself. A better understanding of who I am and what I value, and the extent to which I will not sacrifice those things in service of anything. I’v been tested, and in the process, I lost something I thought was really valuable to me, only to learn that the things I value I still carry with me, and the things that I lost in the process I really don’t care about at all.
It is the first time I’ve been able to look back on this time and understand its lasting value to me.
Able to hold it close, and not look away.