Survival

It’s ridiculously easy to get sucked into the downward spiral of hopelessness. It’s a toxic mentality that perpetuates itself ad infinitum, when we let it. You work so hard so that you can afford to eat and have somewhere to sleep. So that in the morning you can get up, shower, put on your work clothes . . . and go back to work. And the cycle repeats. And eventually you look at your life and wonder why the hell you work so fucking hard just to survive and go back to work. It’s exhausting even to think about. The futility of it all is as laughable as it is sad.

This is not the way it’s supposed to be. The God I know and adore did not design a system that simply leads to burnout. He did not create games that are impossible to win.

When I’m depressed I tend to see isolated failures. Something bad happens. I do something stupid. I lose. And the individual defeats add up so that each consecutive loss weakens me further. Pretty soon what should be a minor setback appears catastrophic.

Because my perspective is wrong.

First off, I’m wrong to look at events as failures. Perhaps, taken alone, they appear so. But in reality, they are the stressors that will make me strong. How can I grow without encountering resistance?

I need to change my expectations for myself. My goal must no longer be perfection. As long as I strive for this, I will prefer to remain stationary rather than risk a blemish on my record. But that is the surest recipe for failure. To do nothing is to guarantee stagnation. Movement–any movement–is an opportunity to learn.

I must not be afraid. I must learn to embrace uncertainty. Then my days will no longer be mindless repetition that devours my energy and saps my strength. Every moment will be a lesson; every person, my teacher.

And instead of standing still, I will move forward. Rather than going through the motions, I will have purpose for every action. I will build on yesterday, laying the foundations for tomorrow.

I’m done with survival. I insist on living.