It has been a long time coming, but it is one of those nights again. Long term readers might understand but in case this your first time on the blog, I go through cycles. For long periods, I will be happy, motivated, and believe that I can do anything. But sometimes a night will come when my son is asleep and I’m alone in my house. A night will come that I start to feel that everything is pointless. I feel empty, and I have for as long as I can remember.
I think about my dreams and plans and literally every part of my existence and try to convince myself that it matters, but deep down I feel that it doesn’t. It’s like an incurable disease that flares up every couple of months. It doesn’t whisper. It sits on my chest until I can barely breathe, like fingers strangling my heart.
I strive to write for two major reasons. The first is because I enjoy creating my own stories, worlds, and characters. It’s like reading a book, but better because I can make it exactly how I want it. This isn’t the only reason though.
Writing gives me something to strive for, a goal. And truthfully, I need those goals to distract from the fractures in my chest. Its nights like these when I am reminded that they exist. I need goals to keep me focused on something other than a deep sadness that never seems to leave no matter what I accomplish or achieve.
Many people might advise me to seek professional assistance, and I would if I could. In truth, I can’t. If I were to go to a counselor, then there is a chance that I could get medically discharged from the military. It’s a hard choice: try to find help for a problem that is so ingrained in me that it probably is part of who I am or stay in the organization that has been the key to everything stable in my life.
I go through cycles of this, so it isn’t new. I do know that when it happens—which is almost always around this time of year—I’m tempted to burn my life to the ground. I don’t mean suicide, but rather other poor life choices. I have to keep it in my mind to stay the course and that things will get better.
If you happen to be reading this and know me in the real world, you might balk at these emotions. I know I normally don’t come across as this emo, but that is because when I am with people, I don’t feel this way. Human interaction fills those fissures and as long as I surround myself with friends or family, I forget that they are there.
But on nights like this—nights when I am alone—is when I feel that emptiness all too well.
I’d like to end this post with a quote from my favorite book. If you ever feel like I have described, I recommend reading it. It saved my life.
“And so, does the destination matter? Or is it the path we take? I declare that no accomplishment has substance nearly as great as the road used to achieve it. We are not creatures of destinations. It is the journey that shapes us. Our callused feet, our backs strong from carrying the weight of our travels, our eyes open with the fresh delight of experiences lived.”
― Brandon Sanderson,