The Most Important Thing I’ve Ever Done

This blog could be the best thing I've ever done. (Update: It's okay.)

What’s the most important thing you’ve ever done?

I had the thought today that this blog might be mine.

Not overcoming the intense shyness of my teenage years; not defeating the depression that took me down in my 20s; not making a home in Montreal; not co-founding Crew (slash carving out the best career in the world); not learning a second language (still on the todo list); not learning to have healthy romantic relationships with women; not your mom – this blog.†

Why? Well, stay with me for a minute.

Physically I’m in pretty good order. But now and then I have a bad day when my body decides it doesn’t wanna work correctly. There’s still no real explanation for it, but it has been happening pretty rarely and isn’t THAT bad so I mostly just sit in front of a TV until it passes and go back to whatever I was doing. Anyway, I had three bad days this week, and on the last one I completely broke down in a sobbing ball in front of my family.

Three bad days in a week was unprecedented. Clearly, I was dying. The result: a panic attack.

I haven’t had a panic attack with that level of intensity since I was ~10 years old. The tingling sensation in my extremities was a “holy shit, I forgot about you” moment, like re-finding that sex tape of your 5th grade teacher.††

Use your words

I’ve always been a little up-and-down mood-wise. But these last few years I’ve been mostly up. I’ve had tough spots and have gotten a little weepy in front of friends and girlfriends. Pretty minor, if not expected given the stupid levels of pressure I often put on myself.

The point though is that the worst feelings always come from the same trigger – facing my own weakness. Be it a physical problem or mental one. I like to pretend my problems don’t exist and keep ’em inside but, when I can’t save face, something doesn’t line up in my head and I break down. (Psychologists I’m sure are nodding their heads. Textbook, probably.)

Even though I think about my “problems” all the time (as we probably all do), it’s when I verbalize them to another human that … holy shit. It hits me like a ton of bricks falling from a truck that was being hauled to space by a rocket designed by nazis.

This particular day (which happened to be yesterday) was worse than all the others. Probably because it happened to be while I was home in Newfoundland for the holidays. Something about being there pushes emotions over the top for me. Escaping from it was a solution to many of the issues I dealt with for years.

Or was it?

The Point

Maybe I was just able to push my issues down and pave them over with the frantic schedule that’s been my life for the past 4 years. Maybe I still haven’t dealt with my particular bucket of crazy in the way in which I need.

If I’m right, this blog is going to be very very important. The hypothesis is that every issue I listed above stemmed from a bigger underlying issue – my inability to talk about and address whatever badness was going on in my life at the time.

So how do I address that? By having a place to talk about these issues that is so public I can’t possibly hide from them. I can’t just pretend everything is fine with this site lurking out there. I can’t stop talking to an old friend because I’m embarrased s/he knows my deep dark feels. (Something I did more than once in my younger days, sadly.)

I’m gonna run head-first into the very thing that turns me into a crying, horrible mess of a person and do it over and over and over until it’s NBD.

Then we can go to lunch.

† All these will be future topics of discussion here I’m sure, except for your mom

†† Only an example. To my knowledge, no such tape exists of Mr. Woodrow

MOAR!!!

Calm down, there's a new article every Monday unless it's the summer in which case there's a new article less than that. Subscribe here: