I looked up to find that I was at a crossroads
Didn’t know that it was coming
Didn’t think that it was near
I had been wandering on my own for so long
Lost without a compass
A nomad without a home
No one to guide me
Or to teach me right from wrong
Somehow, some way I’d gotten here on my own
Arrived at the crossroads with no direction in mind
Uncertain about which way to go
I could take the road more traveled
Or go my own way, off on my own
I waited and waited for a guiding light
Hoping that someone would come to show me the way
I waited there a day and a night… a day and a night…
But my salvation never came
There was no saving grace, no blinding light
But little did I know that there was an epiphany on its way
A moment of clarity mixed in with the darkness
A moment of sanity in this crazy thing called life
I didn’t need to rely on anyone else
I could do this on my own
I just needed to believe in myself
Have an ounce of faith
Some way, somehow I would find my way
I would find what I was looking for some day
A moment of clarity was all that I needed
A moment of clarity was what I needed to light my way
Category Archives: Discovery
Hermit Mode
I’ve often heard that being an aspiring author is a solitary profession. Maybe you’re still learning how to write or you have a work in progress or you’re struggling to find an agent or perhaps you’re going the self-publishing route and need to learn marketing skills. Whatever the case may be, you find yourself stuck in limbo. You haven’t broken into the industry yet, but writing isn’t just a hobby for you anymore. It’s become a habit, a passion, a lifestyle. Your day doesn’t quite feel complete if you haven’t spent time honing your craft. I know that feeling full well, of course, otherwise I wouldn’t be here on my soapbox.
I knew going into this that it would be a reclusive endeavor, but I guess I just didn’t know to what extent. I’ve always been rather solitary (not necessarily by choice)—feeling like I was on the outside looking in, like I was out of place, like an outcast. I’ve always been rather misunderstood. None of these feelings are new to me, but I didn’t realize that these feelings could, in fact, deepen. I didn’t know that I could be more misunderstood than before. More alone in my pursuit. But knowing what I know now, this shouldn’t have come as a surprise to me. Without a “finished” product, very little is understood of what it is I’m trying to do. Until I transition from merely a writer to an author, no one is going to know who I am or care about what I do. That’s a hard truth that I’ve had to learn, and am still learning.
That fact is more clear to me now than ever. No one cares about what I have to say until I have a story to sell (and even then there’s no guarantee of interest). It’s been tough to reconcile that, but I think I’m finally starting to get over it. The reconciliation, however, is a cyclical process. Unfortunately for me, I keep falling for the same trap. I approach each new endeavor with optimism and enthusiasm, only to be met with disappointment when things fail to live up to expectations. For a while, I thought my mistake was setting my expectations too high, so I lowered them each subsequent time. Sure, this probably had something to do with it, but it wasn’t the root of the issue. My original mistake was setting any expectations to begin with. By doing so, I was constantly setting myself up for major letdown if things didn’t play out the way I envisioned. And boy, have things played out much differently (so far).
As I mentioned last post, I’ve been met with a steadily increasing amount of apathy and indifference. Which honestly, is a creative’s worst nightmare. We want to feel like our artistry matters. That we’re making an impact. We want feedback good or bad. We want engagement. We want to feel like our art is being seen and/or heard. Of course, I don’t write for recognition or accolades or what have you. I write because it’s good for me. I write because it’s what I do, and what I want to do. I write because I can’t not write. But still… I want a little something more. I want to be thrown the occasional bone for the effort and work I’ve put in—even if it’s something as small as a fishbone.
But this is where we begin to drift into dangerous territory. Where do I draw the line between believing that my hard work will pay off, and expecting to be rewarded for what I’ve done? When does this stop being an ideal and start looking like entitlement? I’ve said before that meritocracy is a key component of my ethos and world view. I operate under the assumption that positive energy and action gets reflected back, in turn. Your hard work and consistency will pay off. Your effort will be rewarded. While I don’t know any of this for certain, it’s what I believe and it’s what I choose to believe. I’ve learned the hard way that my optimistic outlook isn’t necessarily the most realistic, but it certainly beats the alternative, which I’ve been through before as well.
The truth of the matter is that we don’t live in a perfect world. Many things work in theory, but not in practice. More often than not, ideals are unattainable. For example, some of us strive for perfection, even with the knowledge that this is not something that we can reach. That however, will not prevent the perfectionist within from trying to reach towards flawlessness. I could write faster if I didn’t tinker/edit/nitpick/re-read as much as I do. But I just can’t help myself—sometimes my perfectionism gets in the way of my artistry. I wouldn’t want it any other way though; I take pride in my work, and as such, I hold myself to an incredibly high standard. I can’t half ass anything, or post content that I think is shoddy. My conscience won’t let me do it. There’s a baseline quality level that every artistic endeavor of mine has to reach. Maybe this is another way that I set myself up for failure. Maybe setting such a high standard contributes to making unreasonable expectations.
That’s not something I know for certain either. But I do know this: it keeps me motivated. If I wasn’t constantly striving to write to the best of my ability, I’d remain stagnant, and never get to where I needed to go. Each day I’m getting better at my craft, little by little. Each day I’m learning, improving, and growing. I don’t pretend to have all the answers, because I don’t have all the answers. Instead, I’m figuring things out as I progress further in my writing journey. Sometimes I’ll have to ask for help, sometimes I’ll have to look stuff up, sometimes I’ll have to try new things. All of this requires me to step out of my comfort zone, which of course is easier said than done.
If you know me, then you know that I’m rather reserved. I’m your textbook introvert—I don’t do well in larger crowds, I spend a lot of time alone or in my head, I’m not super active on social media, I tend to clam up in conversations with larger groups, I might come off as aloof or standoffish. It might not seem like I care, but I actually care a lot. I care more than you know. That’s partially why the indifference hurts me so much. It’s a massive step for me to even put myself out there in the first place. Which makes it that much more devastating when all I hear are crickets. But as I said earlier, I’m learning how to cope with it. People will react the way that they react. That doesn’t change my approach or my process. At the end of the day, it’s all about what I can control—my effort, energy, and consistency namely. I just have to keep doing what I’m doing. Good things will come to me eventually. I still have faith.
When it comes down to it, I am my own brand. Everything that I do artistically—my fiction, my poetry, my essays/blog posts, my social media content—goes towards it. I need to do whatever it takes to continue to build it up. I can’t afford not to. If I don’t do this for myself then who’s going to do it for me? There are so many things I’ve learned in the past three years or so about writing, mental health, life. I have a lot that I can share. A lot that I want to share. I just need the platform.
It will take time and energy for me to cultivate a following. I understand that. I also understand that at the end of the day this might not even be within my control. There’s a possibility that my dreams will never become a reality. That’s just how the math goes. It’s a harsh truth that I have to accept. But it doesn’t mean that I give up on my dream. It doesn’t mean that I put in less effort. I can’t focus on that—it’s putting the cart before the horse. I’ve done that before, worrying about the future rather than focusing on the present. I know how that story goes. It never leads to anything good, just inaction and undue stress. I need to control what I can control, and let it play out on it’s own. I don’t know the future, but I can tell you this much: if I fail it won’t be due to a lack of effort on my part. I will do everything in my power to try to get to where I want to go. If I put in the work but I still can’t get there, I can live with that—at least I tried.
That being said, it’s back to the lab for me. Back to my den of seclusion, so that I can crank out quality work. No man is an island. We weren’t meant to live in isolation, but I think that’s what’s next for me. While the pandemic may have ended a few years ago, social distancing still continued for me, in some ways. For the most part it was through circumstance rather than by choice, but perhaps it’s time for that to change. It’s time for me to go into Hermit Mode. To put my head down and get to work. To put on the blinders. To tune out the noise. Focus on the quality of my work and mastering my craft, rather than sit around waiting for a warm reception or any sort of reaction. Maybe when I pop my head out next, the reception will be warmer. Maybe it won’t. But I won’t hold my breath either way. I’m just going to keep on keeping on, and worry about that.
I Still Believe
I’m tired of waiting. I’m tired of being patient. When will my time come? I knew going into this that I wasn’t going to get immediate results. I knew that it would take time, effort, and patience. So, I did what I needed to do: I put my head down and got to work. It was meant to be a two-pronged approach that kept me focused in the interim. It allowed me to perfect my storytelling craft in quiet, while still having something to show for it on this platform. But I can’t help but feel like I haven’t really gotten any closer to where I wanna go. It’s gotten increasingly harder for me to maintain my focus.
At first, it was easy for me to ignore all the distractions. I knew that my quality of writing needed to improve drastically if I wanted to make this work. It wasn’t particularly difficult to keep my head down then, since in my mind it was a tangible goal to reach for—even if the line between not good enough and where I need to be was rather blurry. But now that I’ve leveled up to a place that I feel good about, I feel like I’d like something more. I’ve spent enough time toiling in the workshop, I want to show the world what I’ve learned and how much I’ve improved. I feel like I have a lot to offer to the people around me. Unfortunately, I continue to learn time and time again that what I want isn’t necessarily what the universe is willing to provide. In fact, it seems that more often than not the two don’t align at all.
It seems that love, support, and appreciation is hard to come by these days. It just feels like no matter what I do or how hard I try I just can’t get the backing that I’m looking for. I understand that people don’t care about the same things that I care about. Most people aren’t going to prioritize mental health or writing or poetry the way that I do. That’s just the honest truth. I’m not so naive that I’ll believe otherwise. And I’m not so arrogant or entitled to believe that I’m owed anything from anyone. However, I feel like I should at least get what I deserve—I should get as much out of it as I put into it. That’s only fair, right? Unfortunately, I continue to learn the hard way that life isn’t fair either. The scale isn’t balanced. And perhaps karma is just a fallacy. A concept that’s better in theory than it is in practice. Merely an ideal and not reality.
You have no idea how much it pains me to say that. While I’m not going to go so far as to proclaim that, “karma is a lie,” I have to accept that there’s a possibility that it isn’t a law of the universe like I want to believe. I’m not sure when exactly it happened, but for some time now, a large component of my ethos has been the concept of meritocracy. You get what you give. You’re rewarded according to your skill and what you’re able to provide. If you work hard and do good, blessings will come to you. If you insert positive energy into the world, you’ll receive positive energy in turn. Good ideals to have, but I’ve started to wonder as well, whether or not this is rooted in truth.
For the last four years or so, I was so confident that I had the right of it. All I had to do was put in the time, effort and energy, and things would come together for me. While I still want to believe that, and will continue to operate like it’s true, I’m just not so sure anymore. My hard work hasn’t paid off yet. Again, I understand that it takes time, but I guess I just thought things would play out differently. I thought what I had to offer the world would be well-received. That’s not how things have gone, to say the least. While I haven’t received outright hate or negativity (at least, not in a long time), I’ve received quite a bit of apathy and indifference, which frankly, I’m getting rather tired of. Of course, I was expecting such a reception—it’s the life of a starving artist after all (name me a group of people more misunderstood than creatives, I’ll wait)—but I had thought it’d be to a lesser degree.
I almost feel like I prefer the former rather than the latter. Hate and negativity is easier to tune out, especially if you’re confident and know your worth. You know what you’re capable of. If you’ve been busting your ass at something you’re passionate about, you will improve—that’s just a fact of life. At some point, you will reach a baseline competency in the quality of your product and your skillset. Your haters and doubters won’t have a leg to stand on. Anything they say will come off as petty jealousy or spite. Easy to ignore because you know that what they have to say is neither meaningful nor true. There’s nothing that needs to be read into further, because how they feel about you is out in the open.
Not so when it comes to indifference. When it comes to indifference nothing is overt or straightforward. It’s a cloak and dagger operation rife with obfuscation, projection, and misunderstanding/misinterpretation. How exactly are you supposed to read into the lack of action? Do they not care? If so, why not? Does what you have to say not matter to them? Do you not matter to them? Or do they simply not understand what it is you’re trying to do? How exactly are you supposed to know without confronting them? Finding out the truth will likely lead to uncomfortable situations, however. Easier then to decide to just leave things as they are—keep the truth hidden somewhere in the dark. But that’s never sat well with me. It feels too much like a game of chicken. One party is too afraid to ask the other how they truly feel, and the other party isn’t willing to commit, for whatever reason. Which leaves us at an impasse which will never be resolved unless someone budges.
I dunno about you, but I’m too old to be playing such games. If you’re on my side then prove it. Actions speak louder than words. Don’t just tell me you want to see me succeed, show it to me. I don’t think I’m asking for much here. If you care about me (or cared about me once) then you should care about the work that I do. It’s as simple as that. No fakery or hidden meanings. Do I matter to you? Yes or no? That’s a question for you to ponder, and one that I’m going to condition myself to ignore. Easier said than done, of course—like most things. But something I have to keep reminding myself of, because at the end of the day, what you think about my work doesn’t actually matter. I’m not saying that your opinion doesn’t matter, to be clear. I’m saying that your opinion about what I’m doing is irrelevant to my goal(s).
Throughout life there will be people who support you and people that will doubt you. You will have lovers and you will have haters. People will praise you and people will shit on you. These are facts of life. You can’t please everybody because everybody is different. Some worldviews align with each other, and some clash. The sooner you accept this, the sooner you’ll realize that all feedback is noise, good or bad. Criticism, constructive or otherwise, either helps you improve or it gets in your way. You take what’s beneficial, and you throw out the rest.
That being said, I’m not going to beg. I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for support to come from the indifferent—that’s never going to happen. I’m not going to throw a pity party and say, “woe is me…” I already did enough of that in my youth. Instead, I will focus on me and what I can do. How can I be a better writer? How can I be a better mental health advocate? How can I be a better storyteller, poet, editor or what have you? How can I live the life that I think I deserve? I can only control what I can control. And it starts with my effort and my consistency. I can’t let up for a second. I can’t afford to lose my focus. I can’t let anything get in the way of my goal. Some day I’ll get to where I wanna go, but only if I keep following through. There’s no such thing as failure, only lessons. The only way I fail is if I give up. And I’ll tell you this much: that ain’t happening, as long as the passion is there. You might not believe in me, but I believe in me. And that’s all that matters.
Finally Feeling Appreciative
All these years I’ve never really had an appreciation for nature. Birds annoyed me. Scenery was boring. I hated raking the leaves and shoveling the snow. But most of all, I just didn’t really like being outside. There was too much pollen, too much dirt, not enough things to do. Weak excuses, I know! I just wasn’t the most active kid. I would ride my bike around the neighborhood in the summer. And I would snowboard or tube in the backyard (or hit the slopes, of course) in the winter. As a family, we would go on the occasional hike or camping trip. But aside from that, I spent most of my free time indoors—I preferred to be in my room.
Growing up, my mom used to take us to the library all the time. I can’t say what drew me in exactly, but naturally, I gravitated towards fantasy and sci-fi—that interest has only strengthened over time. That being said, fantasy being what it is, I spent many a day immersed in wild landscapes. Reading about forests and oceans. Over the hill and through the woods. You know, heroes embarking on adventures and all that. Which should lend itself to love and appreciation for nature, right? Wrong! I liked nature in theory, but not in practice. I wandered the deserts and the plains on the page, but couldn’t be bothered to do it in person.
Fast forward to high school. Some things changed, but many others didn’t. I remember reading (and writing) quite a lot of poetry all four years. It was my first love, even if I didn’t want to admit it for a long time. There’s one unit that’s still particularly vivid in my mind. It was the winter of sophomore or junior year, the entire term was spent reading poetry. We started with the Brooding Romantics, then we moved onto Transcendentalism, and we ended with a third movement that I can’t seem to remember the name of (Realism maybe?). As you would expect, many a poem touched upon flora and fauna, scenery and wildlife. Sure, each one was super descriptive, sounded great, and was beautifully crafted, but I never truly understood it. I could picture the scene in my mind, but I could’t see the appeal in it, or appreciate the beauty. Nature just didn’t seem to resonate with me. I tried again and again to see things from their perspective but I just couldn’t do it.
The fact of the matter is I just didn’t have much appreciation for life in general. I wasn’t one to count my blessings or see things with rose-colored lenses or consider the glass to be half-full. I was more likely to mope or feel sorry for myself or focus on what I lacked. My vision was clouded by my hurt. I had too much bitterness and resentment in my heart to allow for love to come in. And without love, there is no appreciation. I know that full well now. Without love, everything dies. Without love, there is no joy or happiness or peace. Without love, there is only pain and hardship and bitterness. Everything needs love, everything starts with love.
I understand that finding a romantic partner is particularly difficult for some. But that’s not actually what I’m trying to get at here. When I say that, “everything starts with love,” I mean that everything starts with self-love. Unfortunately, that is easier said than done. I dunno what it is about our culture, but we’ve conditioned ourselves to be our biggest critics. We’re prone to self-deprecation and devaluing our worth. I suspect that oftentimes started out as a defense mechanism to protect us from bullying. “If I’m laughing at myself, then it means that they have no power over me.” But where do we draw the line? When does the self-deprecation go too far? When does it start to damage our ego and effect our self-confidence? I wish I knew the answers to these questions when I was younger. Perhaps my teenage years wouldn’t have been as rough.
But as I’ve said before, we’re not able to change the past. Our trauma and our scars are a part of us, just as our passions and our interests are also. The good and the bad make us who we are. We can’t have strength without weakness. Positive without negative. Healing without hurting. That being said, my depression and my anxiety are a part of me. It’s a part of my history, but it’s also a part of my story. Even though I’ve found my healing, these are things I’ll have to live with for the rest of my life. Depression isn’t a thing that’s over and done with, it’s something I have to fight every single day of every goddamn year. Despite what it seems, acknowledging that doesn’t mean that you’re giving it power. But rather, that you accept and love yourself as you are: the good, the bad, and the ugly. Your mental illness(es) are part of your story, but they don’t define you.
For a long time, that wasn’t something that I believed. Instead, I let the voices win. I bought into the lies that they told me. You’re worthless. You’re useless. You won’t amount to much. It seemed that my depression and anxiety would get in my way at every turn. And so they did until I finally ended up in therapy. Life was quite dark for me, trapped beneath a cloud of despair. I’ve vowed to never return to that melancholic state, but it’s a daily struggle for me (and for people like me). That’s just how it goes.
I’ll have good months and bad months, good weeks and bad weeks, good days and bad days. Some days are easier than others, some days I can be strong in my resolve. Others are tougher. But regardless, I will still fight. Battles will be hard fought, but the war will never be won. But that doesn’t mean that I give in. I just need to keep picking myself back up, dusting off my shoulders, and continuing forwards. Instead of cowering like I used to, I stare down my mental illness and say, “not today, motherfucker. I am in control of this life, not you.” Just because I’ve been dealt that card doesn’t mean that I’m going to let it hold me back. Not anymore. The going has been tough, and will continue to be, but I’ll be better for it in the end. I only come out of this stronger. Better. Wiser.
So, as I grow older, the acceptance and love for myself also grows. And with that comes appreciation. Appreciation for the things around me. Everything that I’ve been blessed with. The good and the bad. My strengths and my weaknesses. The lessons that I’ve learned. The trauma from my past. The brightness of my future. But most importantly, I’ve finally started to understand the thing that never made sense to me before. I’m finally able to appreciate the beauty of nature. The birds chirping in the morning. The scent of flowers in bloom. A trek through the forest. A walk along the beach. The stunning vistas from the mountaintops. Life can be abundant, and full of joy. It can be happy and fulfilling. It can also be busy and stressful. So don’t forget to take a moment to smell the roses.
Where Do You Wanna Go?
As I’ve shared before, I struggle to stay focused at times. It’s easy to get distracted by the outside noise. It’s easy for me to lose sight of the steps I need to take to get to where I want to go. What can I say? I like to get a holistic view of things. I’m always asking questions trying to connect the pieces. But sometimes I get carried away looking at the big picture, and the task becomes too monumental. That’s when I have to take a step back, and remind myself that I have goals in mind—short-term, mid-term, and long-term—and I need to take it one day, one step, at a time. Tune out the static and keep on working. If I stop, I’ll never reach my milestones.
I wish I’d had this type of ambition and drive when I was younger. But I lacked a purpose, and without one my wheels were spinning. I regret wasting so much time, but there’s nothing for it now. The best I can do is make up for lost time. It won’t be easy, and I know that. I just need to be patient, keep my head down and continue to plug away. The hard work hasn’t paid off yet but it doesn’t mean that it won’t at some point in the future. That’s something I have to remind myself of daily. We can’t lose sight of where we’re trying to go. Don’t settle for anything less. Along the way you may come across haters or people who are jealous of you. Don’t let them distract you. The time that you spend worrying about criticism, positive or negative, would be better used on perfecting your craft. Like most things it’s easier said than done.
Tuning out the noise is a skill that takes effort and deliberate action to develop—in the social media age especially. It’s not something that comes easily or naturally for most of us. In fact, in certain aspects it could be considered countercultural. Social media conditions us to believe in and seek instant gratification. We post something and we’re supposed to get feedback in short order. The more likes the better. The better the engagement the more successful you are. And it’s easy for us to believe that. Likes and views generally lead to follows. That’s a formula that works for Instagram and Tik Tok, I don’t dispute that at all.
But we have to remember that while social media can be a tool, it can also be a detriment. It’s not always the golden goose it’s made out to be. Social media can be extremely taxing, mentally and emotionally. It’s easy to get caught up in it, and let it dictate our mood. It’s easy to let a poorly received post discourage us. It’s easy to take trolling personally. Once you let that happen, the app is in control of you, you’re not in control of the app. Be careful about how much time and energy you invest into it. Don’t let yourself get so sucked in that it starts to consume you. You are still an individual separate from your Internet persona. You’re still working towards something. Don’t forget that.
What you see on social media isn’t always the truth. You might see a happy couple in front of the camera, that’s always fighting behind it. You might see an upbeat, energetic individual on the screen, that’s depressed and looking for meaning off of it. You don’t know what people are dealing with on their own time. You only see what people want you to see. It might be who they are genuinely, but not necessarily. It’s best to keep that in mind as you navigate the social media landscape—especially if you’re looking to be a content creator or an influencer (neither of which were a thing when I was growing up). We don’t often get a look behind the scenes. We don’t see how much work needs to be done in the background before someone makes it big. We only see the content that’s published, not the blood, sweat, and tears that come before.
It will take hard work for you to get to where you want to go. Anyone who tells you otherwise is either downplaying it or lying. Anything worth doing will be difficult. That’s because it’s the best way for us to learn and grow. We only become wiser if we challenge ourselves. If you’re looking for easy, you’ll be stuck in neutral, destined for mediocrity. Life isn’t easy—that’s the honest truth. Coming to that realization is a part of growing up. The sooner you come to grips with that, the sooner you can embark on your journey. There comes a point in time when you find yourself at a crossroads: either you continue backing down from adversity or you face it head on.
The choice is yours. Will you choose to challenge yourself? Will you choose to persevere? Will you choose greatness? In order to get to where you want to go, you need to keep pushing yourself to higher heights. The only way to do that is actively working towards your goals, and meeting challenges head on. Tuning out the noise, and not letting yourself get distracted. It will be scary, and it will be tough. But you can’t reap a reward, without taking a risk. So, keep on keeping on. One day you’ll get to where you want to go.
JHUMWRITES—A Mental Health Blog 