Daily, it was starting to feel like a Netflix binge where the character gets deeper and deeper into turmoil and it’s getting darker and more twisted every day. This plot is not going where you imagined it would.
There’s something that happens in our brains as we go through increasingly stressful events. Our ‘vision’ becomes narrow and insular. I started to become blinkered in my day-to-day. I was triggering my stress response and living in a state of survival. I became slower and less capable of making a sound decision. I couldn’t make up my mind and I would hazily stumble around bouncing between contentment, happiness, hopelessness, sadness, determination and grit. Remembering I chose to be in my truck and that I needed to experience this to get to where I wanted to go became a daily reminder.
Another interesting thing can occur during stressful events. Regression. We start to become more irritable, more demanding, emotional, needy and helpless. We need help because we feel in danger. And if we feel that help isn’t available, shit gets real very quickly. I had less than $100 to my name, no job, no home and a truck that needs some work and lots of gas. Food became basic and the daily drudge became harder and harder. I had to force myself to clean up, to cook or pick up my camera. I was running out of steam. Emotionally, I was getting younger as the constantly activated danger regulation system made survival way more important.
I had a few job interviews but they didn’t pan out. I ended up staying in a long-term campsite known for homelessness and trouble. It wasn’t that bad but I became aware I was now seeing the place from the inside, and not as a social tourist. I think ‘hope’ was running out and I was starting to see the worst case scenario was now closer than I ever wanted it to be. My mindset was describing me as homeless, broke and in real trouble.
You get humbled very quickly living on the road. I used to tour for months at a time on tour buses and hotels which had this effect of removing you from ‘normal’ life into this weird bubble of people all touring together. It took about a week post-tour to assimilate back into the groove. Doing it on my own was very different. I spent very little time with other people and as I sit here in this small town, I feel crowded. It feels very ‘peopley’ out there. I have spent way too long in my own company lol.
It was surprising to me just how fast I isolated into my own little bubble. I had people reaching out checking on me regularly and some who turned away once they knew what I was going through. How someone responds during a crisis period certainly separates the wheat from the chaff, so-to-speak. It takes a certain type of person to genuinely help someone at their lowest. I just wanted someone to walk with me through a tough hour, not give me money or have a solution, but just to be there. That’s hard to do and it doesn’t make someone good or bad. They’re just not able to be there right now or they just don’t want to be. It’s uncomfortable and messy. Too much drama. How someone responds to an outstretched hand reveals a lot about a person’s character and integrity. But it also reflects back to the helper, their own insecurities and character. Are they really the giving, loving, supportive friend they believe themselves to be? Nobody wants to deal with that. I get it, I really do.
I wanted to give up a few times near the end. But really, how do I give up when there’s nothing to give up? I mean, there’s only ‘me’ left. A curious and dangerous state can overwhelm me and I feel that I can’t go on yet, I feel more alive than ever. I don’t want to die yet. There’s nothing like sitting with your own mortality to make you feel alive. For me, there’s strength that comes with the knowledge that you have this final choice available. And I’m not done yet. It goes beyond depression or fear and into a spiritual place where my awareness of my own humanity appears. I ultimately have a choice and by choosing to exist, I shed victimhood. It no longer matters what happened or who did it. I choose to stay - simple as that.
If I choose to stay, I choose to be accountable because I can’t plead ignorance or victimhood. It’s like choosing to go to the party, nobody made me come and I didn’t just stumble across the threshold into the dancefloor. The other side of this mindset is a deep awareness of your self and your separateness from everyone. It can be so empty and void of connection and desolately lonely.
That realization as the rain hammers the windshield and the wind threatens to blow your camp away is a hard one. The night is long and your soul cries like a child to be held in safety. Sleep is teasing you and you crave the peace it would bring. Remember, over two months sleeping in a truck canopy or across the front seats in the cab. Well rested, I was not. As time goes on and the nights get longer, somewhere on the wind a voice whispers to hang on, we’re not done yet. Be like water, be like nature, be like love, resilient, strong, and vulnerable. Let your faith guide you. Let go of control and drift a bit. Drift through money and shame, drift through relationships and family, through longing and desire and rejection. Eventually, I found myself in this empty place with no defenses or pretense, as I said, before, it’s humbling.
I put some things to rest that I needed to put down. Those paths would never be cut right now and I had to let go of a few hands. Maybe we shall meet further down the road but I had peace knowing I did what I could for them and I did it with intention. Not glamorously or perfectly by any means! I ballsed it up a few times for sure but I was genuinely me and I know that’s where you find healing. Accountability is a double edge sword.
And accountability is what this is really all about. The understanding that comes with knowing your own weaknesses and strengths is powerful. I was 3 days away from ‘landing’ and I was out of money until a cheque arrived in the mail. My sister and I were texting and she offered me a loan. I got irritated because I wasn’t asking for money. Why offer money when you know I didn’t ask for it? That just makes me feel shitty. This ‘defense mechanism’ is used to describe narcissistic projection often. She offered money to help me. I felt bad and guilty and shameful that I needed money. She ‘made’ me feel my shame and it hurts a lot. So, instead I wanted to blame her for offering money when she knew it would make me feel bad; essentially manipulating the situation to victimize myself. Blaming her relieved my shame for a bit. Don’t worry, I didn’t respond to her this way, I just noticed the pattern as the feeling came.
So, today, I’m writing this sitting in an empty 800sq.ft. store on the main street in a small but thriving village. It’s part of a good friends house who offered me somewhere to live in return for work he wants done. He’s an Italian baker so I will be cooking and helping him with his house. The store front would make a perfect small studio and now my choices seem way less overwhelming. Do I get steady employment or start another business?
And what about my photography?