“Well, I’m a little hot wired, but I’m feeling OK
And I got a little lost down along the way
Well, I’m just around the corner ’til the light of day, yeah”
‘Light of Day’
(written by Bruce Springsteen and performed by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts)
Six years this month I quit my last call-center job. At the time, I was in a world of shit pain-wise as I had two disks in my lower back that were either bulging or compressing (I didn’t have the time or money to get them looked at because I had such shitty insurance with this job, which was ironic considering this was a health insurance company). And I honestly don’t think they would have made any accommodations to help me (like springing for an ergonomic work set up because I worked at home) because they were very good at saying ‘no’ more than ‘yes’.
On my last day, which was just driving my computer equipment back to the office and out-processing, I blasted the song ‘Light of Day’ by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts on the way in and on the way out. And it was a very cloudy and rainy day so that song was more wishful thinking on my part. But the lyrics were so true though I had no idea just how much until now.
In the first month after I left that job, I just focused on healing and getting my pain down to a level that didn’t make me want to scream. Then I got a gig delivering food and I discovered I liked gig work. Looking back, I know I could have researched gig work better and handled things better but in EXPLANATION AND NOT DEFENSE (I put that in all caps to make my point here), I had no confidence in myself to change my life as radically as I wanted to.
Why? Because I felt like if I did something I liked someone would come along and shit all over it and try to bury me in their shit. Back then, I was that fucked up and it’s taken me six years to repair the damage of that line of thinking. I have kept so much of my life to myself because I don’t want to hear someone pontificating about something they haven’t done. I like to think if someone comes at me like that now I’ll either be nice and walk away or tell them to fuck off with their ignorant toxic-waste bullshit.
One thing I’ve gained in the last six years is something no one can take from me: inner peace. I define ‘inner peace’ as accepting I’m as flawed as every single person on this planet, that I have the right to pursue things I love to do, and that I have to the right to my thoughts and feelings no matter what they are. Once I began to accept these things as truth, things got better for me. I’m still busted down to almost nothing but I can see where I can move forward.
‘Things can’t worse so they gotta get better’ (from ‘Light of Day’)
This line is so true. My anxiety-fueled mind likes to tell me all the bad things that can happen so I have to counter that with plans to deal with those things if they happen. I think you can only plan for so much because as my father used to say, you can’t live your life as if you always listening for the elephant to come charging up behind you to stomp you into a puddle of shit. I think a lot of people spend too much time thinking like that because of high-stress situations and people riding other people for no damn good reason other than be walking, talking assholes.
All my life I’d been told I was weak and unable to do anything really hard. That was a complete lie because when the shit came down, every single person whoever told me that cut and ran and left me to deal with all the shit. And I kept my thoughts and feelings to myself because I honestly thought no one gave a shit about them. But I give a shit about them, and I give a shit about other people who have felt all alone in this world like I have. My life and my writing are not an act of revenge. They’re about healing.
This line of thinking from that ‘Light of Day’ day six years ago has led to the point I’m at now. I’m writing the ‘Breaking Radio Silence’ book, section by section, chapter by chapter. And none of it has been deleted in a fit of rage and sadness like previous attempts. I have finally hit the point in my life where I can write about it.
And this is what I was driving to six years ago though I didn’t’ know I just had to get a little lost along the way.