Bottomless PITS AND KINTSUGI GOLD

Measured by societal standards my 20s were a failure.

While others were finding their dream jobs, advancing in their careers, travelling the world, attending dope af festivals, falling in love, getting married, having children, etc. I was sinking deeper and deeper into a bottomless pit of addiction, depression, social anxiety and rock-bottom self-esteem. Watching everybody live their best years through a rectangular screen while my life was a complete and utter shit show certainly didn’t help either, so I spent years hiding and running away.

I ran from my past, my friends, my family, my country/heritage, reality, social media, my self, and any and everything you could possibly think of, through whatever means I found at my disposal. And when I say whatever means, I mean the full spectrum: from the lies I told myself to YouTube, Netflix, alcohol, weed, and just about any other substance God left on this green Earth.

I wasn’t ok… but, today we’re so accustomed to shoving all the shit under a rug and painting it pink, that saying that you’re not ok has become an act of rebellion. People look at you like you’ve got the smallpox when you say that you’re not fine, so doing it takes a lot of courage. And that’s something I didn’t have back then. All I had at that point was shame and fear of judgement.

It took years to understand that it’s ok to not be ok, it’s ok to admit you’re not ok and it’s ok to ask for help. Life isn’t a gentle and linear ascending ride from start to finish, it’s more of a rollercoaster of chaos and mayhem where one moment you’re holding on for dear life while the universes smashes you into tiny pieces, and the other you feel like the world is yours. If it sounds bipolar, well, that’s life… And if you haven’t experienced both ends of the spectrum, trust me, you’re missing out.

Anyway, it took a lot of time and work to muster the courage to “return to the world”, and I’m sure not a lot of people are capable of understanding the struggle. Things most take for granted like having a casual conversation, hanging out with friends, attending an event or concert, meeting new people, posting a photo, sharing an opinion, and even the most trivial things seemed very far away from feeling casual. Actually it felt more like and everyday battle against my darkest fears (some more rational than others), and for years I lost at a landslide. And when you stack enough loses, your confidence that you can even drag yourself out of this bottomless pit fades into oblivion. If you’re not able to comprehend how some people can resort to suicide, perhaps this is a great time to take a moment to be grateful that your life hasn’t led you to such a dark place.

Sometimes it’s not that you don’t want to change, but everything works against you, and you’ve tried so many times that you’ve lost all hope that change is even possible. And it feels crippling. I’ll try to paint a picture for you, though I’m surely lacking a lot of the knowledge and insights required for it to be a complete one.

On one hand we have the shit we inherited – our genes, our upbringing, race, culture, and all the prejudice and predispositions that go along with them. Then we have the environment – family, friends, nation, society, and all the pressures that spring from these. And finally to all these we add our own shit. Vices. Habits. Mistakes. Things you’ve done as a result of the things that were done to you. All together forming one big, fat and seemingly impossible to untangle gordian node of shit that you’ve been granted the opportunity to sort through. Very little of it (arguably none of it) is your fault, but it is your responsibility. “Your mission, should you choose to accept it…”

Now waking up to this is pretty painful as it is. You’d be surprised to learn how fucked up you are as a person upon closer inspection (both from the standpoint of what you’ve done to others but also of what others have done to you). But trying to understand the causes that led you to where you are and actually make a change, that’s a whole different ball game. Because every single one of the things enumerated above will be fighting back. It’s a long swim against the current, a fight to break a vicious cycle spanning across generations, and the world, society, friends and family won’t be the only ones you’ll be fighting. You’ll be at war with yourself. All of you. Mind. Body. Spirit. And winning the fight, will mean losing your self. Or at least the self you knew yourself to be up to that point.

As much fun as dying sounds, know that it’s not. Even though I couldn’t stand the self I was, I can assure you that burying it was anything but sunshine and rainbows. Less of a celebration or the birth of something/someone new, and more of a funeral of everything I knew myself to be. And while the me I buried was very much real, the me that was to replace it was nothing more than a figment of imagination. Nothing concrete. Nothing palpable. Just a faded feeling, a vague idea floating in the realm of possibility. The good new is that this version of me was pulling me toward itself just as much as I was grasping to reach for it.

Fast forward to today, on some level a lot of things have changed for me, while many others are still the same. I’m still far away from feeling natural in situations most people would consider trivial, but I definitely win more battles than I used to years ago. I’m pretty sure that me and that future version of myself haven’t intersected yet, but I’m also sure we’re closer today than we were yesterday. And that fills me with hope and excitement for what comes next.

Now, to answer the burning question of how did I dig myself out of that dungeon, the truth is that I didn’t. God did. And it was nothing short of a miracle. A very painful one from where I was sitting, but a miracle nevertheless. And no, I don’t mean it in a cheesy, poetic, or abstract way, I mean it in the most realistic way possible. If you’re asking yourself how, that’s a story for another time. If you’re asking yourself why me, rest assured, I’m wondering myself the same thing. I wasn’t a believer. On the contrary, I hated everything about Christianity and would incessantly point at and laugh at Christians for being stupid and naive and at the church for being corrupt. I’d mock God and Christ, and blatantly curse their names, while being very much open to the idea of spirituality and the universe and cosmic consciousness and all those other ways of referring to IT. Imagine my surprise when I found out that They’re all one and the same. Anyway, it does seem like God tends to choose the least likely of the lot, and if I am to throw a wild guess, it might just be that I was just least likely enough to make it into His grace scope.

I didn’t pray. I wasn’t grateful. I wasn’t humble. Quite the opposite. I always was a selfish, arrogant prick who never appreciated anything and expected and took everything for granted while giving nothing back. And as much as you would expect a full 180 from atheist to die-hard believer to change a man, trust me – change was and is much harder than you’d think. Not necessarily because there isn’t a will to change, but because, as I previously mentioned, everything and everyone around you, yourself included, is fighting against this change.

Now, to draw a few conclusions, sometimes things look pretty grim and you may begin to think that there is no light at the end of the tunnel. Sometimes you may begin to wonder if there is such a thing as free will or our fates were woven way before we even set foot on this hurling rock and there’s no point to even try. And maybe sometimes the pain you’re feeling is so vicious that you can’t even reconcile it with the idea of God in the first place. It’s hard for me to convince you otherwise, I myself swung from one side to another many times and regarding many questions I’m swinging still, but for a moment in my life, it felt like I pierced beyond the veil and woke up to the realisation that there are no mistakes. That everything happens just as it should. And the implications of this idea are massive. It has the power to completely shake ones beliefs and behaviours and transform a life of shame, guilt and regret in a life lived in faith, trust, curiosity, courage and love.

In the grand scheme of things, control is merely an illusion, and as soon as you stop clinging to it, a lot of the weight pressing against your shoulders goes away. On one hand because you no longer obsess to control every little detail anymore. But mainly because by removing yourself out of the equation, you place yourself in the hands of something/someone infinitely wiser, kinder, more faithful and loving than you could ever be. The very intelligence that created everything you see around you, and the same intelligence that beats your heart and breathes your lungs.

I know that some climbs are more difficult than others, and sometimes it’s so foggy that you can’t even see the summit. All you know is that you’ve been climbing ever since you can remember, and you’re long past what you previously believed to be your last ounce of hope or strength. Just keep going. Nothing is for nothing in this world. And no drop of pain, sorrow or hardship goes unnoticed or unaccounted for. Once you reach the summit and get a panoramic view of your life you’ll be able to connect all the dots, and it will feel like everything you have lived till that moment led you to where and who you will be then and there. But, perhaps the best part about the universe tearing you apart and smashing you into a million pieces is that, when it finally glues you back together, just like Japanese kintsugi, there’s gold shining through the cracks.