I used to believe life works out the way its supposed to. That’s how I grew up. Work hard, yes, but never force circumstances. So I did what I thought was natural. Go with the flow. I’m not saying I was aimless or had no ambition. I just wasn’t trying to force anything. I was being adaptable, flexible, resilient. That was the survivor in me. That’s the only way I knew how to operate and it worked. Joined the military, led squads. Got out, lead teams in the private sector. Moved cities. New job and kept working hard. First one in my family to complete college. I was successful, and from the outside looking in, it appeared that way too. Life wasn’t perfect, but it was far from bad. I was having a great time as a young adult. Music festivals, travel trips to other countries. Aside from the usual ups and downs, life was good. Or was it?

There were a few times when I questioned if I was truly happy but that’s normal, right? A little self-doubt is normal. So I rationalized, I’m in a good relationship, I have good friends, a good job, good relationship with my Mom. All the boxes were checked. Don’t doubt yourself. Don’t disrupt the flow.

Looking back, maybe I was running from myself. I knew I wasn’t perfect. I was aware of my flaws but I’m not a bad person. I’m just human. I’m fine. So I kept going. Hard times hit. Keep grinding. I can do this. I’m a strong person. Feelings slow you down so I didn’t think about them. That was the cycle. Just stay strong. My mind can handle it. Years of weight just piling on. I was focused and determined not to let anything or anyone get in the way, even myself. And it worked. Until my body broke.

It broke under the weight but my mind still held strong. I was at the VA for a standard medical appointment. Even then, my mind was thinking, “What do I need to say so they can let me go home? My dog at home needs me.” They let me leave. I went home and carried on like normal. Nothing to see here. Didn’t tell anyone either. Figured I was stressed out, having another rough patch. Business as usual.

Nothing changed but I was exhausted by this point. Another fight with my ex. Why? Another hangover. Why? Another Sunday in a place I hated. Why? The same question kept popping up.

Then New Year’s Eve happened. I was at a cabin in Western Maryland with friends I’ve known for over 20 years. People who have seen every version of me — good and bad. I got too drunk. The next day I learned I threatened everyone there. That was it. I wasn’t me anymore. I was hungover for days. Not just the alcohol. My whole life.

A day after I got home, I saw the planner on my dresser. A Christmas gift I hadn’t touched.

I didn’t use it the way it was meant to be used. But I understood what it represented. And for the first time in a long time, I stopped going with the flow.

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