Episode 199 – Long Runs, Long Dark, and Deep Pits

Summary

In this special scripted episode, I reflect on finally graduating and trying to climb out of a pit.

Music provided by Storyblocks &

Karl Casey @ White Bat Audio

Video:

To read along:

When I first started my bad habit-breaking journey, it felt like I had a rocket in my ass. I was on a complete roll of positives. I was releasing episodes and other visual projects consistently, I was working out all the time, and I had a great attitude. I’d proven to myself that I could do difficult things, thus giving me great belief in myself. The belief and action was a wicked combo. I could and was doing things that I would’ve probably not thought possible. On a really good day, if I read or heard something extra motivational, watch out.

I remember reading the first David Goggins book during one of those Summers and immediately upon finishing, went on my longest run. It was a personal best of 9 miles. For me, quite a feat, and something that I’ve never been able to replicate. I still remember a lot of that long run. The heat beating down on me, sweat collecting in all the worst spots, but I didn’t care. I’m completely in the zone, doing laps around the block, trying to keep count of laps while also trying to convert laps to miles. In this moment, I am locked in and there’s no going back. “I’m so glad that I’ve gotten into this lifestyle”, I think to myself, “I can’t ever imagine this coming to an end. This is life now.” I grin to myself as I continue to run.

Years later I find myself rifling through the mail in the dining room. I come across a small yellow envelope with my name and address on it. On the bottom of that is more text: Postage Due: $2.93 What the hell is this? I think back to recent packages received. Didn’t think there were any issues with those. I try to think if there’s any incoming mail that it could be, then it hits me. Of course, I know what it is and it makes sense now. The package in question, that’s lacking proper postage, was my degree. Why not just wring me out for a few more bucks as a final goodbye? It is the beginning of March and it’s been some time since my final exam and all the fanfare. It’s about damn time that I get to physically hold this sucker. I was eagerly anticipating it and though I feel a lot of pride for some reason, I’m not feeling a lot of joy or excitement. In fact, you could say I’ve been in a bit of a pit. But why? I should be walking on the clouds. I slayed the school dragon. All my hard work had paid off after all that time. So, what the hell?

Well, it could be the long dark. If you read or listened to any other writings that I’ve had about the Winter season, you know my feelings and how it affects me. If you don’t know my feelings, let’s just say, not fucking great, to sum it up briefly. This year we didn’t have a ton of snow, but lots of seriously cold days and of course, lots of dark. This all makes sense, yet the more I thought, it seemed that my troubles began a little earlier. I’m thinking it was more like Summertime.

It was early June and I had just completed another semester of school. It was a huge relief, as it had meant no more in-person classes. Even more importantly, no more getting up early. This was a huge deal to me because I was in pretty rough shape. It was just the one class, but any morning that consisted of class or classwork would pretty much guarantee that the night before would not be near a solid 8 hours. Probably more like 5 or 6 if I was lucky. I viewed Summer as a potential renewal period. I’d re-energize myself and all my creative endeavors. It was time to get back to the good stuff. The stuff that made me feel alive and proud of my efforts. Not that I didn’t feel proud for completing another semester, but it was a different type of pride. Both are great except there’s nothing quite like having an idea, coming up with a plan, and using all your tools to make it real. Better yet, having a large library that you can look back on. It was time to expand my personal library yet again, but where to start?

Well, I’d start by doing something that I was quite familiar with. Though I wasn’t 100% done with school, I thought I’d write an essay that recapped my new experiences. I’d explain the struggles and attempt to inspire. It would be just the thing I’d need to re-reboot this thing.

The writing of the essay didn’t really take all that long, as everything was fresh on my mind and I had lots of old assignments that I could use to reconstruct the timeline of events. The process was a therapeutic return to form. When it was finally ready to be released and allowed to just exist in the universe, I was proud of myself, however, my blah-ness remained. This wasn’t the cure that I had hoped it would be. What the hell was going on here?

I wasn’t dumb. I understand that an essay wasn’t going to completely save my life. I get that. I was, however, looking for a little bit more of a spark. I needed that old creative routine back. It was time to go bigger. It was time to do something that would be rewarding and challenging over a longer, more consistent stretch. The 31 mother fucking days of Halloween part 3!

“But wait!”, I’d think to myself. School’s not over and I’ve got my worst subject remaining. I’m already drained right now, at this very moment. The plan is to just put my head down, say “fuck it”, and continue? It was a pretty stupid idea, but what would be more stupid would be a Summer that flies by with no effort toward a goal. I knew this would be a great way to dive back in while holding myself accountable. I’d also get to work with some great, creative people again. The battle in my mind was settled. It was on.

My first steps were to finalize the list, or rather, actually construct one. I had some rough ideas in my head, along with dead projects I could resurrect from years gone by, but no real list. The thing is, making a list of ideas and content is pretty easy. I love the holiday and there are so many ways to cover it. There are decades of movies, memories, and creepy topics that a person could fill slots with. They may not all be good ideas, but I could sure as shit build a meaty list. The obvious challenge was always execution.

Having done this twice, I knew what to expect. I had a hard time conceiving a future in which I wouldn’t finish this thing, but hey, shit happens. People go into major things with great intentions all of the time, and unfortunately, it doesn’t always work. I for one, believe that there are a variety of factors that could lead to the collapsing of a passion project such as this.

First of all, a major project killer could simply be the length or overall scope of the project itself. I can think back to a lot of different film ideas and even a crazy podcast-related one involving a major network with daily content. At the very start, there was nothing but positive energy and a can-do attitude. These were sexy new mountains to climb and conquer. As time would progress, reality would set in. These are some fucking high mountains, and I’m not even sure I’ve got all the correct climbing gear. In the example of my podcast network idea, I didn’t really consider what running a podcast network would really mean. It was daily uploads and constantly having fresh content. That’s a lot of discipline, especially for the person that I was when I originally came up with this idea. At the time, I had not even thought about giving up substances. On top of that, energy and creative projects were severely lacking.

My grand pod network died very quickly. The two main podcasts that started it all are still active, which is nice, but no network in sight. I am not saying that you should give up on a project if you come to realize that it’s too large or you get yourself burned out. It may just be time to regroup. Is there a way to scale it down and still produce something cool? Maybe it’s time to shelve it for now and work on something else. It may be a project better suited for future you. A you who has gone through more nasty shit and has gotten a chance to grow more. I’m not ready to ever totally abandon old ideas. There’s always a chance to bring old dreams back to life. Unfortunately, that’s not the only way a good project can collapse. I’ve hit many potholes from lack of results.

For this one, I can actually produce a current example: my YouTube channel. Sometimes I’ll keep kicking a bunch of ideas around for long periods of time. During that time I’ll often ask myself, “Is this even worth all of the effort?”. Oh, man. That’s a great way to just keep these projects in the mind and pages of the journal. It is not crazy to want to see results for your efforts. You may even want to dive into analytics and experiment with new things. Still not crazy. What is crazy though is letting the lack of results stop you. I still struggle with this. The negative self-talk, the blockages, and the refreshing of pages over and over. In the moments of doubt, it’s a good idea to re-calibrate. Yes, the same thing that served as a solution to the first thing that collapse projects can also help this one. You may call it lazy, I just call it a crazy coincidence.

When you take a second to chill out, you can remind yourself why you started. Isn’t it fun and exciting to create beautiful art out of your wildest inner visions? It’s not about pleasing anybody else, it’s about you. Whether you do or do not want to pursue those ideas that you have on the back burner, who cares? Just don’t stop. It does suck pouring your soul into something only to have a small audience and little to no engagement, it really fucking does. But the next one? It could be the one that does it. Maybe not, but what if the views and engagement doubled? After that, who knows how much further you could go? If you stop now, that’s it. You’d never get those elusive results, that again, don’t matter. You did all those projects and most likely had some help along the way, which means you also likely had some great laughs and general bonding moments. This leads me to the third and final big reason why major projects can collapse. The last reason is trying to do too much on your own.

The last example is an easy one: The MPS 31-Days of Halloween marathon. When I first had the idea to do 31 days of content for the month of October, I knew it was bat-shit crazy. I also knew that I could totally pull it off. I started early enough in the year and more importantly, had a kick-ass group of people to help me. If I tried to tackle 31 pieces of content alone, I could easily burn out, come to resent the whole thing, and maybe eventually send it to the half-finished project graveyard. I’m happy to say that I’ve now got a total of three 31-day marathons. Grand things are not often created alone. If you have a grand idea that’s barely hanging on by thread, yet you still think there’s hope, maybe it is time to grow that team.

Now, where the hell was I? Oh yeah, the marathon that I was currently working on. So, I had managed to finish another. We were able to produce a ton of cool shit. New shit, old favorites, just lots and lots of shit. I was pleased and quite proud, but still feeling off. It wasn’t the jolt that I was looking for. The truth is, I don’t think there was or would have ever been a magical jolt. Sometimes you just happen to be in a blah phase of life. The trick in my current situation was to just put my head down and get through it. I was deep into my math class and though it was online, on my time, I was still pretty stressed. It had been so long since I’d done any math and had dumped a lot out of my brain.

Weeks leading up to the class, my head raced with anxiety. I had no idea what to expect. Would I have to memorize a bunch of formulas and shit? “Ah, shut up brain! We made it this far, it’ll be fine!”, I’d often have to remind myself. It was just like before with the other classes. Stay calm and shut down doubts. I had the tools.

Right away, some of my early worries were squashed when I found out that we’d get to use notes for the quizzes and tests. That was a huge help. As long as I could just grasp the material while being able to read my atrocious handwriting, I could actually become a college grad.

By the time Winter rolled around, I was wiped out. Class days were long, and classwork was becoming very tedious. Luckily though, I was feeling much more confident than before. My score was quite high due to the power of consistency and some good test scores. I now knew that I could pass without a doubt. In my exhaustion, I could still really appreciate that feeling. I used to think it was just an associate’s degree and would wonder, what’s the big deal? People may still think that, and it’s totally fine. I don’t see it that way anymore though. This isn’t just a degree, it represents the human spirit. It is years of struggle, a symbol that I can one day look at and know that I didn’t quit. Lastly, it’s a promise fulfilled to a special person.

The final exam was a long cumulative assessment. I had my struggles and didn’t have the complete course lessons fully nailed, yet I didn’t have the usual nerves. I was more filled with anticipation for the end and just some general hype. It’s possible that this would be the last exam that I’d ever take. I didn’t feel like I had to really soak it in or anything like that though. I just wanted my life back. It was time to start full-time creating again.

Of course, I never really stopped creating. A creator never truly stops. Sometimes there just happens to be some lulls in the magic. I don’t ever expect to be a constant, creative robot, and I know the truth about these lulls and creative burnout. I also know when the break has started to feel excruciatingly long. That’s usually when it’s time to force yourself back into things until it feels natural again. I know we sure as hell aren’t here forever. It was great to hit this personal, academic goal. What really gets my motor running though? Creative goals.

When I look back at everything I’ve done, it’s a long-ass list. Some things on there I can barely even remember writing or producing, yet there they are. It’s awesome to have this to look back on whenever I need a boost. I love the reminder to myself that I have the ability to get cool shit done, however, for as long as it is, I feel I’ve barely scratched the surface. There’s still so much to do. For instance, I’d like to be able to make a full-length feature film before I die. A very meaty goal, yes, but I’ve seen and been through some serious shit. I could pull that off. I have ambition, ideas, drive, and lots of awesome friends who are willing to help. The one thing that I really seem to be running out of is time.

One of the first things I did after finishing my exam was make the annual Christmas episode of the podcast. This would be the fifth one since rebooting the podcast back in 2020. Holy shit! Where the hell did all that time go? Even with all of the projects stacking up, whenever I finish a project, it still always just seems like a build-up to something bigger. I can’t help but wonder if I should have seen that project all the way through to the end or come up with a different concept entirely. Was I pushing down a more ambitious project for something easier or more lazy, just so that I could say that I had shot something? Can I still enjoy the process and be strict about deadlines? How the fuck can I possibly be in my 30s already?

Of all those rapid-fire questions, the last one kept replaying in my head as I awoke on the morning of my 34th birthday. It was strange. I wasn’t feeling all that old, but for the last five years or so, things felt like sort of a trance. In my haze, I grieved and created like a madman, never really thinking about age. For some reason though, on this particular Winter morning, it has hit me hard in the face. I guess it was just a matter of time. I know it’s not for some unknown reason. I was already working my way out of a previous hole, and the very obvious fact was that even if you think it’s just another day on the calendar, it represents another year and more sand from the hourglass. For me, it has always been a time for reflection, both on good and not-so-good things.

I started with the bad stuff as I reflected in my cozy bed that morning. I was working very had to pull myself out of the pit, but the Winter was kicking my ass. The long dark was rearing its ugly head and even though it was now weeks after my last exam, there was little to no improvement. I was sleeping like shit, I had lots more anxiety than I was generally accustomed to, and I was often letting my anger get the best of me.

This was no ordinary pit. It lingered long and ran very deep. I had all the right kinds of tools and could even consult old journal entries for inspiration, I just needed more of the right kinds of action. I say the right kind because it’s not like I wasn’t taking any. I was back to creative land, and while that was good, I was neglecting some other things that were a pretty big deal. Everything matters. A balance is needed to maintain optimal life. Words that I so obviously knew, yet in recent practice, that’s all they became. Nothing more than hollow, useless, words. Since starting school, I had slowly started letting workouts slip until they got to the point where three solid efforts a week would be considered a good week. The lack of workouts affected my overall motivation and consistency. From there I started going heavy on the energy drinks, spending a lot of nights tossing and turning. Small slips turned into big ones, and soon enough I got very comfortable with this life. It’s not like work and school wasn’t a lot of work. I did deserve to have breaks, but I also deserved way better treatment from myself.

I looked up at the fast-spinning blades of the fan, still deep in thought. “I’ve got to turn this around. I will turn this around.” The first step towards doing that, in my mind, was to shift from the bad and focus now on some good. For one thing, I finally fucking graduated. It was a big deal. I still remember that young, unmotivated, asshole very well. That version of me was a big dreamer, which I’m so grateful for, but the drive just wasn’t there. I often skated by, just feeling that everything would work out because up until that point, everything had. I was a rather privileged person. I wasn’t rich or anything, but I had a pretty cushy childhood. I had good friends and tried just hard enough to get through high school. I assumed that with big dreams and hope, you could have whatever you wanted. I had never meant to get myself so far off course, I just got to a point where giving up seemed to be the most viable option. Worse yet, I just felt I wasn’t good enough for all this stuff anymore. What I was good at? Partying.

With partying being the new focus and sole motivation, that degree seemed to fade more and more with each passing year, until I eventually stopped thinking about it altogether. If only that drunken bastard could see me now.

More good? It was my birthday, which meant I made it another year. I was in good health too. In fact, I was feeling much better now than I had felt through a lot of my 20s. I could now feel my eyes grow less heavy and an overall shift in my energy. “Come on pal, we’re not that old yet, but at the same time, move your fucking ass!”

Later that day, we visited a mall and walked around for a bit, as per my special birthday request, of course. I felt a little bit frustrated because my Dad had insisted on a specific restaurant for that evening. It was a detail that had been mentioned to me previously, like over a week ago previously. Oops. Damn this memory! This kept options limited for birthday plans in the afternoon. To be fair though, it was also my Dad’s birthday. I know, crazy shit, right? With that in mind, I figured maybe it was just a place he really liked, so it was whatever.

When I made my way into the crowded restaurant that evening, I was immediately thrown off guard. The first figure to catch my eye was my friend Johnnie. What a weird coincidence! A few more feet in, plenty more familiar faces. Now it all makes sense why this specific place at this specific time. My family had thrown me a surprise birthday/graduation party. There were lots of family, friends, and great food. The fact that I had felt any frustration had now made me feel like an asshole. I couldn’t sit and dwell on it though, as I was working my way out of the pit as it was. What I could do was try to learn from it and do my best to change. Actually, it’s more of a responsibility to myself and less of a “could”. Being aware of one’s own assholeishness is just half the battle.

I tried to stay in the moment and just enjoy every bit of that party. It had been so long since I’d seen some of these people and had no idea when I’d see some again. Another reality of that ticking clock is the fact the lives get busy, thus making things more difficult to plan. I try to acknowledge these moments. More good stuff to add to the list from the morning: friends and family. I have a long list of really cool, supportive, people. That’s something not everybody gets to say.

My list of good was looking, well, good! I was happy to be back into some positive thinking again, but I kept myself in check. It’s not an overnight process to get back to the warm and fuzzy days of discipline and non-stop content creation. Forward progress is always killer though.

The party wrapped up as I said my goodbyes and shoveled one last piece of cake into my mouth. A few months passed and I find myself holding that letter about the postage. I think about the previous journey, among others. The long run, the long dark, and pits. If I didn’t write it down, sometimes it’d be hard to believe. I shift my eyes down toward the contents of the letter once more. The upcoming graduation ceremony would be the final milestone of this back to school saga. It would then be time for the next challenge. I had no clue what would be next on the agenda, but I looked forward to it.

We’re now in the present moment and it is time to wrap things up. I still have no major future plans, just a few ideas. I would also say, I’m not fully out of my pit. I don’t see a clear path to get back to those manic years of creation. It’s also possible that going back to an exact replica of that is no longer possible.

What I am doing, however, is going back to basics. I’m using tools that I’ve acquired from past lessons. I’m listening to positive audio and getting more positive myself. My head is down and I’m putting in work. I’m continuing to write, even if it comes out sloppy on paper and often sounds like the rantings of a lunatic. I’ll continue to hold my large dreams close to my heart, realizing that the clock keeps on ticking. I’ll see this age, acknowledge it, finish mourning the loss of the previous one, and finally let it go. There’s a whole lifetime of magic ahead of me. I’ll never know if I need to catch up or how deep the pits will get. I don’t know a lot of things, but I’ll continue to battle until I can no longer hold a pen…which I hope is not for a long, long time. I mean, come on, 34 isn’t that old, right? Right?!

Media Pod Smash, off!

END

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Episode 190 – Adult Learning & The Long Dark

Summary

I am happy to finally present a long overdue essay, Adult Learning & The Long Dark. This is the whole story of my journey going back to college as an adult. I hope you’ll find some of these stories relatable and maybe even able to inspire.

Episode #190 – Adult Learning and The Long Dark

I was staring at a magic glowing entity – not unlike the version of Mr. Burns from that classic Simpsons episode. “What have I done?”, I recall asking it. The entity stared for a moment and blinked before proceeding, “Exactly what you wanted.”

That was it? I followed this bastard all the way through the mystical forest and up the magical mountain for this? I waited a bit to see if the entity would dispense any more words. Its mouth opened as I leaned in with anticipation, but it was no words coming out. Instead, a familiar tune…a melody. Oh, shit. This is all a sham, I’m dreaming.

It’s all over and I’m left in a mess of sheets, confusion, and some sweat. Sorry, I don’t know what to tell ya. People sweat sometimes and the dream was pretty intense. Besides all that, the other thing lying in bed beside me was a promise that I had made to myself. I was going to go back to school and the clock was ticking. I had to get my ass in gear. Sure, when a mic is rolling and a person is all fired up, it’s easy to say things like “I’m going back to school to honor my mother and make myself proud!” It’s a real feel-good proclamation. But to get out of bed on this brisk morning, weeks later, to even get one step in motion? Well, that’s a different story.

Looking back on past achievements, it was easy to see what I needed to do: simply take the first step and gain momentum. Make it real and start checking off boxes. The steps I needed were just the steps to get across the room.

The month was March. Most of the worst of winter was behind us for the year, but cold weather and gray snow continued to linger, and would for a while. To combat my feelings of dread from the long dark and conjure up the momentum that I was seeking, I took place in another 30-day challenge. The first challenge that I tried was a year before this and involved giving up energy drinks. The positive vibes created an avalanche, and over those 30 days, I ended up picking up quite a few great new habits while ridding myself of nasty, overly caffeinated energy drinks. Surly, this new one could be the jump start that I needed. From there, I could continue the progress and get some other big things accomplished.

Like many “event” type things in our lives, this one started with a bang. I was highly motivated and taking on a daily challenge was exciting. As weeks progressed, it became tougher to keep the same level of enthusiasm. By the final week, I had to hit the brakes. I got hit with a terrible sickness and a concerning knee injury. Early in the challenge, my knee started looking a feeling weird, but like any rational human, I ignored it, just hoping it would go away on its own. It did not, however, and was now larger and more fluid-filled than ever before. I had to finally throw my hands up and make that appointment call that oh so many people dread.

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty big on avoiding things and putting things off. I build up what the potential outcomes could be in my head and often freeze in place. So what if my knee looks like a grapefruit? I’m sure it’s no biggie. Bodies do weird things from time to time. I’m sure if I had more pain, I would’ve been more motivated, but it was just a big knee. Eventually, I knew I had to do something. After recovering from my sickness, I worked up the courage to make the call and get to the doctor. After a slight insurance annoyance, I got in. I was given prednisone and told to wrap it up. Damn. Not that I wanted anything invasive, but that was one expensive wrap. It did do the trick after about a week, so I was content. With no physical distractions to focus on now, it was time to turn my attention towards the other thing taking residency in my head.

I’d be lying if I were to say that I took action right away. The month of May sort of came and went without any major fanfare. In general, it’s a pretty packed month for me. There’s holiday fun to be had, there’s an annual convention that I attend, and it is the month in the Midwest where you can finally breathe for a bit and not have to worry about any more of that shitty white stuff falling from the sky. Of course, none of these are all that valid of excuses. I could have found the time to start the application process but didn’t. I mostly think that the initial build-up of what I needed to do in my head was huge. It had been so long and I had gotten so, so comfortable. Maybe it was a stupid idea anyhow-no, no, what am I saying? It wasn’t stupid. My new and improved mindset and inner voice were quick to change that narrative. It will be a very difficult thing to do. It will reacquaint me with feelings that I haven’t had in years. There will be sleepless nights, most likely, and the deadlines…oh man, that’s going to suck. Stupid though? Never. I had to remind myself that I was no longer that guy who walked away from it all and gave up. Not even the slightest.

By the time June rolled around, I wasn’t dragging my heels anymore. My stupid, positive overriding thoughts were right. It was going to be a lot of things, but never something that I’ll regret. So, I filled out my application, wrote a pretty killer essay, if I do say so myself, and crossed my fingers. It was up to the higher powers now.

Recent Summers have become a time for ice-cold n/a beers and lounging around without a care in the world. It was a bit of a different vibe this time. There were still plenty of n/a brews to be had, but the world’s weight pressed itself a little more heavily on me than usual. I felt that my odds of being accepted were good, but I couldn’t be certain. I was still on academic probation from before and didn’t have the best resume. If not for the film club, I wouldn’t have done shit or had shit to put on a list. Luckily, I heard back rather quickly.

It was around mid-July when it became real. I was officially going back to school. The old pressure of waiting for the mail lifted and a brand-new pressure instantly applied itself. My head spun with the thoughts of finances, getting up, studying, and those damn deadlines. Holy shit! Shut up, brain! It seemed like a lot, but everything seems like a lot until you chunk it down. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t all anxiety. I was also very excited to return and grow as a human. Even though I did have my nerves, I knew that it’d be different this time. I’ve learned a lot about embracing the suck since my last time on campus. If I didn’t get something this time around, it wouldn’t be, “Oh, well”. It’ll be something more like, “Oh well, I guess I’m going to keep sitting here until it does make sense.” Yes, paying big bucks had a lot to do with the change in attitude as well, but I know I’m a far cry from that guy who walked out and gave up for a life of retail.

After a well-earned vacation toward the end of August, I rolled up my sleeves and got into student mode. One of the most noticeable differences right away was being able to attend a virtual orientation since I was a non-traditional student. No worries about having to “spirit” it up with young strangers and dodge flying university swag, like stress balls and tote bags. It was going to be nice to ease into things.


One of the first major steps before school started, was meeting with my advisor and making sure all the loose ends were tied and correct classes were signed up for. I had a pretty solid idea of what was left though and unfortunately for me, I put off a lot of what I would’ve considered the “tough” classes until the end. I needed at least one science with a lab, a mix of random other science credits, and one math class. As we wrapped up our meeting, I continued to glance down at my schedule and that annoying inner voice came back to question my choices. “What are we doing? This is going to suck!” I quickly tried to push these thoughts away. “No it won’t…okay, maybe it will, but nothing that I can’t handle.” It was becoming more and more apparent that I’d have to start preparing myself for more of these “psych-up” sessions. I was living such a dreamy and cushy life of energy drinks, late-night video game sessions, and plenty of ESPN background noise. The apple cart was about to get fucking rocked.


Summer was eventful and quick. Vacations, video editing, and various mini-panic attacks packed my calendar full. I squeezed what I could out of the remainder of my time and just like that, I tore another page off the wall and it was September.


My first in-person class was on Tuesday and Thursday at 10:30 am. It was a little bit early for me, but I could handle it. I’d get out of work at 11 pm and still have a pretty good chunk of time to wind down. The only other class that I had that semester was Bio Anthropology online. No lecture to attend, just a shit ton of reading. Most importantly, reading on my own time, when most convenient for me. Having dabbled a bit in self-discipline, I thought nothing I could not handle. There was a thought of maybe adding a 3rd class to try and expedite things, however, after some thought, I decided against it. In hindsight, this was a wise choice.


The lead-up to the first day involved a bit of overthinking and a visit to the campus to locate my classroom and the optimal lot to park in. After that, my mental checklist was complete. It was the real deal now. One week later, I was on my way to the start of a new future. As I made my morning commute to the building, it was hard to believe that this was happening. Years and years of thinking, then deciding and yet more thinking and overthinking.

The drive was much better this time around. In the years since going the first time, they made a bypass that was a direct route to campus. Gone were the days of driving an extra 10 or so minutes through a random subdivision. It wasn’t a huge deal, but every small win was a win and helped add to the momentum. When I finally made it to my destination and went inside, it was like I was instantly transported back to 2010. It wasn’t ancient history, so I didn’t expect major change as far as the interiors were concerned. My interiors, on the other hand, had some pretty high standards set for me.

No matter what, the first day is always usually a breeze. Unless of course, you get lost or you have a teacher that decides to say, “screw the syllabus, we’re diving right in!” In the case of this Geology 101 class that I was currently sitting in, this was looking like one of those breeze kinda days bay-bee! It was looking like we wouldn’t even have to do one of those weird ice-breaker activities. This could be alright. As I looked around the room, I couldn’t help but feel a little bit out of place. I wasn’t that much older, and non-traditional learners seemed to be becoming a more common thing, yet I still had to wonder how I would be able to relate to some of these Gen Zs. When it comes to current trends, I don’t know shit about fuck. And yes, that’s a precise measurement.


For the first semester, it would turn out, none of that mattered. My in-person class had very little participation. I was even right about not having the ice-breaker, getting-to-know-you type thingy. As for my other class, it was entirely self-guided online, aside from weekly discussion posts. It was looking like I could cross a few worries off my list for the time being, and focus on others, which was good. It had become a pretty lengthy list.


The first couple of weeks were pretty simple. Lots of introductions and some basic concepts. Great, I can sit here and learn this stuff. My geology professor was very engaging and funny, so that helped a lot. The hardest part was just having to adjust my schedule to be able to sleep and pack more into my days. With working 2nd shift, I’d get home at 11 and would have to be on the road by 9:40 to be on time for the 10:30 class on Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was a tad early, but not extreme. I still had a little bit of time to wind down after work, which is good, because a lack of decompression time can drive a person crazy.

With the other days in the week, I’d have to find the time to do the online class with a lab component. I wondered how a self-guided lab was going to work, though my spirits remained high at the start of the journey. I could certainly absorb information and I was going to be continuing my pep talks, so really, how bad is this going to be?

Stupid hero of the story, don’t you know you aren’t supposed to ask silly questions like that? Week three came and started to ramp up. I was desperately still trying to keep the Halloween magic alive while making sure not to slip on studying or assignments. Let’s talk assignments for a second.

Having never taken an online class before, I had no idea what to expect and had never experienced discussion posts before. I would have to say, I’m not a huge fan of those and get the impression that many others are not either. On non-locked posts, if you find yourself late to the party, it is really hard not to sound like you are just vomiting up another person’s answer. As for replies, I always feel like I’m a robot writing a generic post. “Interesting post, human! I gained a lot of insight!” I mean, some stuff there just isn’t a lot to say. Other assignments included reading articles and answering questions. Some of the articles could be pretty dense and I found out pretty early on through some oddly brief feedback, that the answers needed to be pretty damn detailed. I’m not trying to make this a bitch and moan fest, but the workload was heavy. Still, though, I was putting out content and getting my stuff turned in on time.

I had a prime parking spot for my in-person class and as we had gotten into a rhythm, it seemed like there wasn’t going to be a lot of homework, aside from studying for the tests, of course. I thought that I was doing a great balancing act. That was until October rolled around. Besides spooky vibes this year, I’d also be receiving a giant wake-up call.

My first big exam came at the end of week 4. This was for the online class and consisted of two parts; a machine-graded, multiple-choice section worth 70 points, and three short answer questions worth 10 points each, instructor-graded. Creative endeavors continued to take up the bulk of my time while I tried my best to study the material.

Again, since I wasn’t the greatest student back in the day, I didn’t have many good study strategies. At the start of this thing, I mostly just read and re-read a bunch of stuff, hoping to absorb it. And honestly, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of doing so. The early topics were about Darwin and evolution concepts. I’m no dummy, I thought. I get it. I’ve been around this scientific block before. It is all good. It was almost a weird overconfidence despite all of the other anxieties that I was facing. It felt really good up on that perch. I was a majestic, beautiful bird who towered above it all, not knowing what he didn’t know. Then, test day arrived.

Another interesting element of taking an online class was the flexibility with test times. The test would unlock on a certain day and you’d be given two days to complete it. I thought this option would give me more freedom and less to worry about, though I started to learn more about myself and found this option got me feeling even more overwhelmed. Sounds insane, but I just couldn’t seem to figure out the “perfect” time to take the exam. After work on Friday to get it out of the way? Saturday morning after a run, so that I’m all fired up? Saturday night? Or possibly even Friday before work, so I could enjoy the weekend fully? These were all the maddening things that swirled through my head.

I decided to take my first one on Friday before work. Logically, the option of getting ready and possibly working out prior was probably the best, yet at the end of the day, there’s only so much extra you can wring out of that brain. You are either prepared or not prepared for the test. I probably could have been much better prepared. I scored 49 out of 70 for part one. Bye-bye perch. That meant that I had to have some damn good short answers. Even then, the best that I’d be able to get was a 79. Oof. I was hoping for a much better start than that. Luckily, he went easy on our first round of short answers. I ended up only getting a couple of points off in that section. A slight silver lining, but I was not happy.

This was not my best and certainly not the way to get off of academic probation. The score was a huge punch in the gut. My doubt started creeping back in. My office, once a creative factory of wonders, was now my version of “the very bad place”. Like Jason’s shack or the Texas Chainsaw Massacre house, the location took on a life of its own and was now a dreadful place to hang around.

Still stinging, I tried my best to shake things off and enjoy the weekend. I knew I just needed a plan and a pep talk. First, the pep talk. I first called my sister. I thank the universe for having someone so supportive and encouraging to help me out of deep pits. The conversation was helpful, even though it didn’t stop me from dwelling on it during work that night. The next pep-talk was from me. “Look dude, it’s not like we bombed it. I can’t even believe that we’re here! That’s awesome! We got this. Grow and get a plan.”

Fortunately, I was having a much easier time with the other class. The concepts were much easier to grasp and the test material was a little more predictable. It still took some late nights and intense study sessions, but the outcome and feelings were much better. The exact timeline is a little hazy. All I know is that the results of this test came after my online exam, and I was now starting to feel more self-confident. Okay, one bad score and one great, not bad, I thought. Two passed tests at the end of the day. The ship remained floating above the water. Even with the other score taking the edge off, it was hard not to keep thinking about the bad results. Thoughts of academic probation and worries of failure danced through my head at night. Some nights were just a complete wash as I’d toss and turn inside my sweaty sheets. I was also stressing about still trying to get some October content released.

We were deep into the month and though the effort remained, it was far from the previous two years. Happy or not with my output thought, it would still prove to be too much with a potential degree on the line. I had to admit to myself that I wasn’t doing enough on the school side of things. It was re-calibration and planning time, for real.

By the end of October, I had a half-assed collection of spooky content for the year and some eye-opening test attempts. I’d like to say that I immediately learned how to be a great student and never under-performed again, but alas, there was still some more growth and harsh realities in store for me. The 2nd time around for my online test, I thought I’d try to take it on Friday after work, instead of before. More time for my brain to wake up, a little more time to cram, this will be great. I did do better on the machine-graded part…by one question. Fuck.

In the end, I ended up with a worse score than the first exam, due to a more harsh level of grading for the written portion this time. I was beyond devastated. The next day was supposed to be a fun outing at the Milwaukee Zoo. Boo At The Zoo to be exact. They decked out the zoo with decorations, music, and activities for the season. Normally, I’d be psyched about such an event, but I was still reeling. I know I still passed and I know I didn’t have any major plans to become a biological anthropologist. I still just couldn’t stop thinking about the academic probation thing. I needed to stay above 2.0. I would do calculations obsessively. I looked like the crazy conspiracy guy with the board full of papers with various strings connecting them in various ways.

I also know that I had to find a way to calm the hell down. This was a whole new challenge, and hell yeah there were going to be bumps. Despite my best efforts, that weekend was mostly a wash. The one way that I did try to salvage things a bit, was by trying to squeeze out more points and momentum from a lab. Besides, they had looming due dates anyway, so better now than panicking a couple of nights before.

There were 5 labs total. 3 were due pretty early on in the semester, and the last 2 were due at the end. I didn’t think these would haunt me as much as they did. I liked the self-guided idea and at first, all those due dates seemed so far away. My biggest concern was just the unknown. I was rusty and didn’t know how much prior knowledge these things would require. Pep-talk time; it had been a while and I was stressing the hell out on a Sunday evening. “Who gives a shit what’s on the lab? I am the guy now! Can you read the instructions and breathe? Awesome! Do the lab!”

The first lab was about genetics. There was just a small moment of panic at the start, in which I saw some walls of text with some very science-y and complicated-sounding words. “Get a hold of yourself, man!” I dug in. I pretended that I was doing an editing project. Sometimes I can throw myself so into editing a video that I’ll get in a flow state and not realize that a night has passed. The sun is getting ready to rise and I can hear the birds. Sure, this kind of thing isn’t nearly as fascinating, but that doesn’t matter. Human will and determination over a little bit of boredom and the loss of a Sunday night.

The lab ended up going well, and by November, I was feeling like I was back on more solid ground again. The results of my 2nd in-person exam were excellent. Over 100% percent with the points from the extra credit. In the online course, I continued to grind through the readings and discussions, absorbing as much information as I could along the way. Creative stuff started to slow down once I uploaded the Halloween special. I knew I’d return in a big way, but right now I had to be real. I continued to calculate scores like a madman, as I prepped for the third Bio Anthropology exam.

This time around, I tried to implement a bit of a new strategy. All this reading was daunting. I wasn’t crazy about it and wasn’t sure if it was my style of learning. I didn’t stop reading, but I did add an app to my arsenal called “Speechify”. It allowed me to take pictures of the textbook and have it read back to me on my phone through the app. I could even get a variety of fun celebrity voices, like Snoop Dogg. Now that’s how to learn about ancient history! And I swear, they aren’t paying me for this, it just helped. I was now able to listen to my textbook chapters at work, on walks, or during various downtime. I also re-added listening to motivational audio. With all the chaos lately, I had been slacking on a lot of my usual “rah-rah” stuff. It was important to try to get that routine back in place.

Without getting myself motivated and pumped up in various ways, I started to notice a negative chain reaction. Without positive talk, it can be really easy to slip on the other positive things that I built up in my life. Among the lack of listening to audio was a lack of workouts. The lack of workouts made it difficult to sleep at night. I was in desperate need of hype.

On the decent days when I had time and energy, I’d ride my bike and listen to motivational compilations on YouTube. I tried to take advantage of the nice days, knowing that the long dark was on the way. This was maybe going to be one of the longest and darkest in quite some time. I wouldn’t be able to lock myself indoors and let it all blow over. It’d be life and class routine no matter the temperature or feelings. I tried not to think too much about it, though. Exam three was fast approaching. It was time to see if my re-calibrations were working.

This time, I decided that I’d try and take the test early Saturday afternoon, after breakfast and a workout. I would then reward myself by going to see Eli Roth’s Thanksgiving. This was my most solid plan yet. I felt pretty good and secure in my knowledge. The day arrived, I did my rituals and dove in. The time ticked down, I reached deep into my well of info, and I battled hard. When it was finally over, no cheers or fanfare. Nearly the same outcome. This sucked! I felt like with the audio I had a much better grasp. Maybe it was helping, but my other methods were still cloudy. In what was becoming an all too familiar pattern, I felt pretty down on myself and had a hard time enjoying the rest of the weekend. I didn’t even see the movie. I mostly just wallowed in my exam results and tried another last-ditch salvage attempt with a Sunday night lab session.

It was difficult to press on after repeated rough test scores. I had to make sure that I also celebrated the positives, as much as the negative things were bringing me down. I had an excellent score in my Geology class. At this point, I’d have to stop showing up to fail. So, that was one thing.

Another thing was the upcoming Winter break. Time to catch up on sleep and know that you never have to take either of those classes again.

Before that break, I’d have a final for each class, and of course, those final labs. In the final remaining weeks, there were also little things like the continued discussions and homework. Generally, aside from a few minor errors, I always managed to turn in posts and homework and get my points. I took pride in my consistency and knew that every point mattered. The feedback was always pretty brief, however, it was also generally accompanied by full credit, so it was whatever. That was until one particular assignment that I must have been a little more careless with. When I received my feedback this time, there were a few more words: “more info needed from the article”, along with partial credit. Damn, okay. I guess maybe I was getting a little bit relaxed here with the end of the semester coming up. Next time, I’ll remember that.

For the assignment that next week, I decided to go all in on the details. I wrote a mini-essay and made sure not to miss any part of the question. It was maybe a bit of overkill, but I wanted those damn points.

A couple of days later, I got my feedback: “I have a hard time believing that you wrote this yourself, but I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.” Wait, what? That was the last thing that I was expecting. This dude thought that I used AI for this? I write everything! He didn’t know me and AI is used by students, so I had to try not to overreact. I also couldn’t let this distract me from finals and the labs. An email would be my plan after sleeping on it. Yes, I had the points, but I still had to say something. I needed to state my case. The only thing that I was guilty of, was being “too cute” with my answer. I worried that this would have an impact on an upcoming lab that required us to write an essay. Would he think that I used AI for this, too?

I calmly stated my case, while making sure to mention my writing hobby/passions. The essays, screenplays, and whatnot. I said all that I could without going overboard and hit submit. It felt nice to stand up for myself, even if the reply was still unknown. It would be a bit of time before I got a response. He said that I used concepts that were not in the article and that was about it. He also reiterated that he had given me the benefit of the doubt. To this day, I’ll tell you, what he said isn’t true. Anything that I wrote was written by me and obtained solely from the article provided. I had to move on with my life though. I wasn’t about to go back and forth with this guy. It was what it was. All I had was my word and my best effort. I pressed on.

The only other thing that I did do, was meet with my advisor. I just wanted to make a quick mention of the incident and give my side of the story, just in case anything else happened. The month continued with some decent weather days. There was no need to ring the long dark alarm bell just yet. The only creative project that I was concentrating on, was my annual Christmas Special. Wear something silly and play some games. A simple tradition that I couldn’t break. The rest of the time was just grinding it out.

It took a few weeks to complete the essay lab. After going down some rabbit holes of research, I can say I did get some enjoyment from the paper, and dare I say, learned some cool stuff. With the prior AI question in the back of my mind, I just tried as best I could to give it my voice.

With just a few weeks to go, I was down to one more lab, two finals, and a handful of small assignments. I was pretty burned out my this point and just happened to get hit with a sickness. Of course. Why not just add one more thing, oh great and powerful universe? “Break was coming”. I’d make sure to keep reminding myself.

The last lab was pretty sweet. He saved the best for last. It was a forensic science lab, in which you had to examine three example bodies and figure out details about them. It put us in the role of detective and felt more like a game than actual school work. Finishing that lab was a huge relief. Since the beginning of the semester, I felt like each lab was an added weight. I’d dream of these labs and deadlines. They’d float above, making ghostly “oooo” noises, haunting me. I remember marking the due dates on my calendar and checking every so often, to see how many days remained, much like my insane grade calculation sessions.

With a little less than a week to go, I had to just worry about the finals. Geology was pretty much a lock, while online I was at least feeling a little better than the previous ones. Before the test, I got a bit of relief in the form of graded labs. To my amazement, I ended my last set of labs with 100’s. The essay that I was concerned about? 100! This was great news. The past three tests were full of stress and pressure. I welcomed these finals with open arms. It had all been building toward this. Sit down, do your best for a couple of hours, and then you will be free.

The results were my best yet. I killed it on the multiple choice and did alright on the written. With the score of this exam, plus all the labs, I was able to bring my overall grade to an A-. The Geology final also went well, as expected. I ended that class with a solid A. All that worrying and all the sleepless nights had been worthwhile. I was at the end of semester one. There was a way to go, but I’d get a well-deserved Winter break.

As expected, the time off flew by. I had a wonderful holiday and was able to increase my creative output for a bit. It was nice to recharge the batteries while also not having to worry about getting up early. I was a little worried about getting too comfortable, as I had about a month of time off. That’s ample time to get back into the old swing of things. The long dark was now in full effect, as well. There were plenty of snowy, shitty, gray days during my time off. “Don’t get comfy!” I’d keep trying to remind myself that the war wasn’t over. By the third or fourth week, I caught up with plenty of games, made a bunch of content, and was starting to feel pretty lazy. “Wake up, motivation guy! This was just round one.”

One of the best things about achieving great things is the fact that you can now use that achievement to help drive you towards more. Like a resume’ of sorts, your past list is proof to yourself that you’ve done it, and can certainly do it again. My energy was starting to wane, but I looked back at my resume. This was indeed, only the first round, and even though I didn’t exactly feel ready, I moved forward. Semester two, here we come.

It was now the end of January. I was in a rocky mental state with the long dark in full force and rising self-doubts from the anticipation of this upcoming class. For this semester, I decided that I was going to take just one class and lab. The class was Environmental Ethics, in person. As convenient as online was, it was nice to have a break from it and get my office back to Smashland. I didn’t know anything about this class, it just happened to check a lot of boxes. I sat in my messy office, a newly 33-year-old frantically scanning a computer screen. I was reading the syllabus and flipping shit. This all sounded like a lot. I paused, then called my sister. Like our conversation after my first botched test, this was helpful.

It was pretty silly to worry, having just come out of the epic battle with two A’s and most importantly, off of academic probation. A lot of pressure was off. I proved to myself that I am that guy now. Will it still suck going forward? Yes! It’s going to be okay though.

The format of this class was odd. It was co-taught. One teacher for the environmental side of things, and one for the philosophy side. On day one, that thing that I didn’t want to have to happen on the first day of my other in-person class, happened! The weird getting-to-know-you, ice-breaker thingy. It was awkwardville and I was the mayor. I should also mention that the class began with an announcement that there would be a two-hour delay due to nasty weather. Great start.

Still, though, I held my head up high and tried to stay positive. Besides the ice breaking on the roads and in the classroom, the rest of the day was a breeze. Gotta love syllabus day. By the end of the day, my mind was a bit more at ease about the content of this class. It was going to be interesting to see how the two elements being taught would come together. I was also informed that we’d be taking some field trips during the semester. Adult field trips? Hell yeah!

A major adjustment for me again, was getting up. This time I had to get up at 7 am, leave by 7:45ish, and be to class by 8:30. It was rough. I never quite got into a rhythm with it. A lot of mornings seemed to come so quickly. “No, it can’t be!” It so totally was though.

I kept doing the things that I was supposed to do. As weeks went by, I never really stopped feeling like a zombie from the sleeplessness, but I was squashing a lot of previous worries. The labs, for instance, weighed heavy in my mind going into this thing. I’d only ever done the self-guided ones. What would the groups be like? How hands-on are we talking? Will there be math? Am I old, weird, and not able to relate to anyone now?

Turned out, the labs were fine. Lots of article reading and in-class discussions about lots of modern environmental issues. One of the labs was even about the ethical use of AI. What a difference a semester makes, I thought. One minute I’m getting accused of using it, the next semester, I’m embracing and learning about it. The people in the class were great. Everyone was super nice and helpful. Groups were constantly changing, so you got to know a lot of different people.


Big tests came in the form of, well, tests. That and some pretty large projects. There were two projects worth the same as doing an exam. One was a group project with presentation elements. The other project was a solo presentation about a local environmental supporter.

Based on what my other in-person class was like, I didn’t think that I’d be doing so much stuff. A lot of it ended up being very educational, so I’m not complaining. I was more just surprised.

Just before the midterms, I was in a pretty solid spot. I had aced the first exam and was staying on top of all the assignments and discussions. It was time to finish this thing off.

The group assignment went so smoothly, that it is hardly worth talking about. Everyone did what they were supposed to, we got the points. Having read some horror stories about college group assignments on Reddit, I was quite relieved. I even happened to kinda know one of the people in my group. It turned out that I had his mom as a teacher way back in the day, so that was cool.

For the solo presentation, I had the perfect spot, and it was practically a stone’s throw away. The place was called Michael Fields, an agricultural research institute. There were many acres of farm fields with lots of different experimenting being done. The main building was an area with an office where they would host different community events, such as farmer’s markets. I had a previous connection to this building because back in high school, I worked at a bakery that was located on the grounds. As I worked in the kitchen and peered out the window, I would always wonder what they did back there. Over a decade later, I’d learn more than I could ever possibly imagine.

I first reached out on social media and then was directed to an email that I could send a message to. I stated clearly what my plans were, identified who I was, and heard back fairly quickly. It wasn’t long before I was marking down a date on my calendar. It was set. This got me thinking about accessing places. In the future, if there is a place that interests me, I could always just say that I’m a student. Doesn’t seem like many people will question you, and you’ll get yourself a free sightseeing tour.

I hated getting up, but it was nice to fill my mornings with a little more variety and step out of my comfort zone. I was feeling very well-rounded. These past two semesters had me doing many things that I wouldn’t normally be doing if it weren’t for going back. As I walked around the institute, snapping photos, and asking plenty of questions, I thought some thoughts about the nature of life. It sure is crazy the places where our paths start to branch off after making a major change.

My presentation on Michael Fields went great. The person showing me around provided me with tons of information. My focus was on a special type of grain that they were growing, Kernza: A deep, perennial grain that can be used as an annual wheat substitute. When the tour was over, I was given a bag of Kernza to try, so I decided that I’d make some Kernza cookies to go along with my presentation. You can never go wrong with cookies. Going up in front of class was a little bit shaky, but nothing like it used to be. I was a lot less intimidated this time around, plus I knew that I had an interesting slide show to provide. I would also like to think that the previous few years of spewing into a microphone helped me out.

After midterms, I had two big projects and two big exams behind me, I was in another comfortable position. It would have to be a royal screw-up now to not pass this thing, which was good. It sounded like I was nailing this thing, which was true, but the days were still not all that great in terms of weather. Each morning, I found myself getting more and more drained. Some days were quite the battle as I’d say to myself, “Come on pal, what’s one little missed class? I hadn’t missed a single one yet, who would care?” I know myself and I know how avalanches work though, and so I stayed strong.

The long dark finally subsided and I could see hints of better weather around the start of April. This also happened to be when we started the field trips. Again, I found myself doing some very unique things that I probably wouldn’t have done if it weren’t for school. Our first trip was to a water treatment plant. It wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but I did see some cool stuff, and going on location beats a classroom setting every time.

The other location that we would visit, multiple times, was the Field Station. This was an area in a building with a wildlife rescue center and tons of surrounding land. There was also a small classroom in the building where we would all meet at the start. Each visit was a new experience and lesson. We learned about prairie restoration, Aldo Leopold and his Land Ethic, and I one point I found myself wadding around in the river collecting macro-invertebrates with a net.

It was a wild end to the year. One day I’m panicking in my bedroom about a shitty score, the next I’m getting in touch with nature and collecting specimens. I wasn’t ever taking on a full load, but I certainly felt like I was getting the full experience.

With the weather finally getting better, my mental health followed closely behind. Mornings were a bit easier with the chirping of birds and sunlight. The commute could still be a drag at times, but it was what it was. I was so close to the end, that was all the motivation that I needed.

By May, I was already looking ahead at plans and all the things that I would do once I had my life back for a while. I was jonesing for some creativity and who knows what else. I was just happy to be heading into another break. The final for the class was a 98 thanks to some extra credit, and perhaps a little bit of luck from the universe. I couldn’t ask for a better end to class and more importantly, the year. I had gone through the wringer, gotten beaten down, lost lots of sleep, and questioned my sanity and intelligence, and I don’t regret an entire thing. I was once that guy who left school and dreamed of going back, but ultimately just stared at old transcripts and spun my wheels.

Now, I could say that I took the steps and did it. Holy shit. At this very moment, I know I’m not done. I still have a stupid math class lingering over my head for next fall, and then of course, there’s the whole question of what’s after that. I was happy that I did this, but another two years in a traditional classroom setting? I don’t know. Maybe some more soul-searching is in order this Summer.


Here’s what I do know: There is an unbelievable power in each of us. We can do hard things that at one point, our past selves would have thought nearly impossible. We can keep our word and do right by ourselves and the important people in our lives. We can find redemption through commitment and challenge. We can grow way beyond what we thought was possible. We can do it all if we make a decision and start. It’s scary and there will be plenty of unknowns.

You may fall off your perch and start to look around, wondering what the hell is going on, but it will all be okay. Everything ends. The good and the bad things all wrap up at some point. It may not seem like the end will ever come, but it does. I write this right now, still in amazement. It is finally over…for now. Like all good schlocky horror films, a sequel will be coming. Right now though, I’m going to add this to my ongoing resume of achievements and enjoy my summer. The 31 days of Halloween are calling my name and I’m ready for a different type of challenge.


As we end this thing, I’d like to first dedicate this essay to that dude who thought I used AI. Here are 20-some pages that say otherwise. I’d also like to dedicate this to my mom. She was always a huge supporter of mine and I knew that she wanted me to go back. Lastly, it is dedicated to anyone who is looking to go back and try that thing one more time. If you are looking for a sign from the universe, this is it. You are all you need and it is not too late. You can breathe, right? Great! That and a little bit of determination are all you need. If I can go back to school 10+ years later, after walking away from a final and being put on academic probation, that sure be all the proof you need. You can do anything.

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Episode 176 – The Art of Quitting

Summary

Media Pod Smash #176 – The Art of Quitting

Section One: The Demon Stretch

It’s the beginning of March, late into the season and I’m over it. I’ve been over it, in fact. I’m walking down my favorite sidewalk, trying to make the best of things, but I can’t help the feeling that I’m feeling. It isn’t quite a dreadful feeling, yet it’s not very hopeful either. Just when we’re looking like the snow is behind us for the year, we get dumped on again. What a bummer, man. I should expect this though. I’ve lived here my entire life; I know the drill.

I continue down the walk, through the mostly shoveled paths. Soon, I arrive at the center of town and approach a stretch that I so cleverly refer to as The Demon Stretch. It is consecutive buildings that remind me of the past and of how chaotic things used to be. Each place has a set of wild and unique stories. Many of which I’m shocked that I can still recall.

The first building that I approach is a building with lots of history. Real-life history, as it has been a part of this community for ages, but also lots of personal drunken history. It was known for Saturday karaoke nights and it was a great place to end your evening. I’d often run into some great characters or drunkenly sing ballads to mostly disinterested bar patrons. I didn’t really care if they were interested or not though. I was hammered most of the time that I was up for a song.

Nearly all my memories of that place are great. Every once in a while, things could get a bit out of hand. One night that comes to mind involved a post-bar close fight. Well, more of an aggressive exchange, actually. I was really far gone at this point, as you could imagine. My friend and I walked out of the bar and I hear a few words come my way. I try to calm my drunken mind so I can brace myself for my first real fight.

How is this going to play out, I wonder. I’ve watched plenty of movies and World Star videos, but I don’t know if I’m prepared for this. I impulsively got closer and started shouting incoherent nonsense to the aggressor and his buddy, who was now walking away. Some fight. The rest of the night was a blur and the next morning, I discovered that my phone was missing. Was it those people from the end of the night, almost-fight, or did I lose it earlier in the evening and just not realize, like a complete dummy. I’d never find out.

Out-of-hand evenings like these should have been a huge sign that it was time to slow down. Back in that era though, I wasn’t in the business of looking for signs from the universe. All I wanted was a party.

I continue my walk down the Demon Stretch, instantly spotting the next drunken historic location. Another bar where I spent many rowdy evenings. To my best recollection, there were no almost fights at this one. How would I really know for sure though, some of these moments were pretty damn foggy.

There aren’t many standout moments in this place. It was just a great place to party. Not super big, but there was a super chill outdoor area if you needed a change of scenery. Some of the best nights were during holiday weekends. The place would get absolutely packed and filled with wild energy. You’d inevitably see a lot of people that you’d gone to school with on those nights, but it didn’t matter much since everyone was trashed.

I approach the next building on the stretch that taunts me. Not a bar this time, but a liquor store. I didn’t go here a heck of a lot, but I have warm and fuzzy memories of my friends and me going in to grab stuff before a big party or holiday event. Sometimes it is tempting to walk back in there, throw my wallet at the clerk, and just say “fuck it, give me a case each of all your finest light beers!” Only sometimes though. Just on bad days, when the store happens to be in my vicinity. Even then, it’s just a passing thought. I know I’m never going back. I’m done, for good.

The last building that I must pass before finally conquering the Demon Stretch, is a big shocker, another bar. Was there more drunken history here too? You guessed it. Most of the time, if I was going into town to drink, I’d end up eventually hitting all the bars. That’s how the real pros did it.

Finally, I’ve moved on. From this particular part of town and thankfully, from all of those parts of life. Completing that part of my walk always brings up so many things in my brain. I still can’t believe how hard I’d go sometimes.

If you think losing my phone and almost getting into a fight over nonsense was bad, just wait. Those occurrences make up just a couple pieces of the insanely large, drunken buffoonery iceberg.

There was a time that I was such a drunken mess during college that I puked into my friend’s coat. He was kind enough to have given it to me earlier in the evening because it was chilly outside. How do I repay him? Here’s some puke for ya, buddy. In my head, I had a quick decision to make, and it was either on the bus we were taking back home or on myself, as to make less of a scene. I guess I can understand my line of thinking there a bit, but I should never have put myself into a position where I could suddenly, uncontrollably puke while on public transit, in the first place.

I’ve apologized many times for this already, but here’s one more in case you’re reading this. Sorry dude, I still feel horrible about that.

Luckily, most of my foolishness didn’t often affect other people. Most of the incidents on the iceberg were slights against me. Injuries, blackouts, and embarrassing social situations, just to name a few.

One night back in college while bar hopping in Milwaukee, I found myself laying out on a small hill while various other drunken college kids continued to pass by. I discovered this spot after downing a giant fishbowl drink near the middle part of the night. I laid back on this hill, thinking I would just shake it off. I tried not to look too crazy to others passing by, but I felt like I was shutting down. To make matters worse, I had horrible gut rot from that drink.

Roughly twenty minutes passed, and I did manage to shake things off enough to get back up, walk back into the bar, and order myself another one of those fishbowls! Party on, dude! Honestly, I wish I was joking.

Back in the present, my walk continues. Without the constant reminders of my old vices everywhere, I start to reflect on some more recent memories. This was a pretty rough past few months. It began to get choppy near the middle of January. The long dark and shitty weather started getting to me.

The following month was not much better in terms of weather and mood. It also happened to be the month that marked three years since the passing of my Mom. It’s hard to believe that it’s been that long already. Time continues to zoom right by, yet I still have pieces to pick up and more grieving to do. I think back to some of those early months and a sudden relief comes over me. These past few months may have been kinda bad but they were nothing compared to those months back in 2020.

Section Two: 2020

There’s a classic movie cliché of the dude at rock bottom who has a choice to make: stay at the bottom and give up or rise up and show the world and himself what it means to be a real hero. Obviously, it’s generally always choice B. You wouldn’t get many asses in seats if the whole movie was 90 or so minutes of choice A.

Life is not a movie and we don’t get highly-paid writers to make sure the correct choice is always made. When adversity busts down our door, sometimes it can be really fucking hard to make choice B.

It was sometime in March 2020 and I was at an emotional rock bottom. I was fresh into the grieving process, my car had just been totaled, and COVID was starting to change the entire landscape. It was around this time that I had begun making some major life changes and thought that I was preparing myself well for the upcoming storm that was coming. At the moment, I was face down in my bed, clothes still on, sometime in the early evening. I had collapsed in defeat just minutes earlier. The weight of everything going on around me had taken its toll and I couldn’t think of anything else to do. If I could just get some sleep for a bit, I could just not exist for a while.

The next day, I was feeling more clear-headed and no longer felt like I was drowning in the mess of life. It was time to rise up and face the problems like the hero in the movie.

That being said, I didn’t try to rush the process of grief. There’s no shortcut for getting through that and I knew it was important to just ride the waves.

I stayed busy while remaining rather numb to a lot of what was going on around the world. I had heard rumblings and rumors but had no idea what was actually about to happen. My focus was on work, organizing various shit in a room, video games, drinking, and anything else that could serve as a distraction.

Just before the lockdown, I’d attend what would be my last in-person event for quite some time. At this point, we’d heard some reports and were well aware that weird shit was brewing, but we had to play some Tecmo Super Bowl, damn it! The annual Tecmo Tournament was not ready to shut down. We didn’t know exactly what was about to happen, but during that weekend, it didn’t matter. It was our last blast. And let me tell you, we got awfully blasted.

For those who don’t know, a good friend of mine started running tournaments for a game in which he has a lot of passion for Tecmo Superbowl for Nintendo. It’s been years and years of memories, laughs, and heated rivalries. Old friends and new are in attendance and it has become one of the big events of the year.

In spite of everything going on, I showed up and had a great time. I allowed myself to get lost in the event and atmosphere. It wasn’t the usual turnout that year, but certainly enough for a solid tournament. Redbull and vodkas were my drink of choice throughout most of the day, with some beers thrown in there every once in a while for good measure. With each drink, I’d get a bit more loose and the day would get a little easier. At this point, I had not yet considered quitting. I had already quit nicotine and was in the middle of fighting a giant battle. Hadn’t I done enough?

The evening finished out with some bar hopping, just like in college. We sloppily navigated our way through Madison, without any particular plan or objective. It appeared that the majority of the city didn’t know what was coming, either. It was college spring break and most places were pretty full. Nothing major happened at all. Like a lot of the nights from the past, we just ran into a few characters and drank a lot. The next day, that was that. It was time to wake up, go home, and get back to reality. We were already excited for the next tournament. It had been an amazing streak so far, and there wasn’t anything that would possibly get in the way of that. Right? Right?!

Over the next few weeks, lots changed. I was still pretty numb to much of the world around me, but some things were too in-your-face to ignore. The national lockdown was starting and the daily routine was going to become much different. The first major change was my work schedule. Fortunately, I never lost any hours. Instead, my hours just got swapped from the night shift to the day shift. The next change would be in socializing.

At the beginning of this thing, it was a fun novelty. Every few nights, my friends and I would get together over zoom to chat and have some drinks. We’d speculate about where things were going, we’d play games, and we’d talk about whatever other random bullshit we could to pass the time.

The distractions of work and friends were nice, however, there was still plenty of open time to dwell on my thoughts and continue to try and move forward through my grief. It was still so fresh and new, yet so was all of this other stuff going on in the world. It was a lot of chaos to balance.

Some days I’d walk into a room and expect her to be there, only to have to remind myself of reality. That seat that was once filled with the comforting, familiar person, was now empty. I’d have to seek advice elsewhere. Moments of pride and major achievement would have to be shared with someone else now. It was very difficult to get used to and is probably something a person will never truly ever get used to.

Lucky for me, I had a supportive group of friends and loving family to count on during this period. I can’t imagine getting through something like this alone. It would seem to be asking a lot of even the strongest of people.

Other coping methods included keeping a journal. I’ve spoken about my journal entries in the past, and have even included some previous entries as examples, so I won’t get too in-depth. I will just say, I highly recommend this activity if you’ve got a mind full of anxious, racing thoughts. There were plenty of evenings that I’d sit out on the porch and write it all out. It didn’t all have to make sense or be completely coherent, it was just for me and it just needed to come out somehow.

I’d often talk about what I did for the day or try to make sense of the world. Things weren’t getting much better in terms of my personal feelings or the world around me. The lockdown was still in full swing and it was no longer a novelty. People were starting to get a little stir-crazy and annoyed. It seemed that the nation was getting further divided and some major events were about to push things even further. I was no longer numb to the outside world. In fact, I became a bit of a news junkie.

It was late spring by this point. Essential things were open with heavy mandates and cases were still on the rise. Quite often, I started to keep track of the reports. This was odd for me because I usually don’t care about the news and don’t mind living under a rock. I guess I was just hoping for answers of some kind. Like many other people, I didn’t like having my daily routine screwed with. Plus I’ll admit, I was a bit scared.

Weeks continued on and our friendly Zoom chats kept up. By this point though, I was no longer having casual drinks, I was starting to pound them. Weeknights were okay, but by the weekend, all bets were off. I’d often wake up on Monday with regret and a total lack of ambition from being hungover. I knew that it was getting to a problematic level, yet it was a really tough time. Plus, with all of the other changes I had been making, I thought I was still doing alright. What’s a little bit of booze when I’ve completely stopped nicotine and am now more active than ever before. Even in the midst of all the chaos, I’d make time for activity. On mornings that I woke up real tired and somewhat hungover from the night before, I could still manage to get a run in.

In one way, it really demonstrates the power of having good habits. I was so used to having to get up and do these things, I just did them no matter what happened in between sessions. To me, that was encouraging and pretty cool. On the other hand, though, it was also incredibly dumb. The lack of sleep and alcohol had a great impact on performance and recovery. It was like piling a bunch of things into the corner of a room or putting everything into a closet and saying that the room was clean. The positive things that I was doing acted as band-aids over a big gash of a problem.

There was no magic “ah-ha” moment or anything like that when I finally decided that enough was enough. There was the build-up of doing lots of stupid things for years and years and there was the current emotional toll that I was going through, but there was no specific moment. In the weeks leading up, there were quite a few journal entries that had a lot of begging a pleading with myself to slow things down. It was usually something to the effect of “Great job on getting the list done today, but dude, slow the fuck down on the drinking. I know it’s crazy out there, however, there are better ways to cope. Change is always possible.

It wasn’t just fluff that I’d be writing to myself either. I really did believe in the power of change after having seen what quitting bad things and adding good things into my life could do. All the proof that I needed was on my giant wall calendar and in looking at the journey that started at the beginning of 2019.

Some of the most helpful things that I ever read or heard in regard to grief is that the best way to move on is to move forward for that person. I knew that the book of my life wasn’t written yet and there was a legacy of a wonderful and kind woman that needed to continue. The pity party guy who sloppily wrote regretful journal entries after a night of heavy drinking or sometimes even during, could no longer be me. It wouldn’t be easy, but many of the worthwhile things in life aren’t.

My first attempt at quitting was the last weekend in May of that year. Simple, I thought. Just like nicotine, you simply don’t allow it around and continue to push through as the clock ticks away. Play some games, listen to music, violently scream into a pillow, whatever you gotta do to get through the day. Then, that day turns into another day, and so on. Eventually, you’ve climbed demon mountain and you can look down below in disbelief with arms raised high. In execution, things went a bit differently.

The weather was great that weekend and it was rummage sale weekend. Ever since I can remember, our town has had giant rummage sales for Memorial Day weekend. It’s an event that has become a bit of a tradition and something that always makes me feel warm, fuzzy, and nostalgic. Although we were in pandemic mode at this point, there were still a few rummages and the vibe was still there. Ah yes, that’s right, our state does get Summer weather. Sometimes I forget that after such a long and brutal winter and spring that can be really bipolar. What a good reason to celebrate! Alright, it’s settled: I’ll drink this weekend and quit next month for sure. And with that weak justification, I caved. It was a long, blurry weekend.

It was time for another entry into the journal. This was something that I’ve actually included in a couple of my essays already. It was a last desperate plea and a significant turning point. A mix of pep talk and tough love, it was something to the effect of “If you really believe that you are capable of turning over a new leaf every hour, then fucking prove it!

Yes, it was time to prove it. Even before my major life changes, I’d listen to positive audio and read positive books. I did believe a lot of what those people said. I had large ambitions and dreams. I felt that there was power in belief and being positive and that if you wanted something bad enough in this world, you could have it.

The current state of the world had taught me that in an instant, everything can change. Things can be taken away and never given back. Time continues to march on and if you spin in circles, things will just keep going without you. It was scary to think about, but at the same time, it was a great motivator. Some things would never be the same again and the nights and weekends wasted could never be given back to me. That was okay though. I had to accept that and move into what was still left.

Going through the process of grief in the proper way is extremely important, and of course, that process looks different for everyone. At a certain point though, it’s time to move forward and get back to living the best possible life that you can for that person and for anyone else that has passed on. Our loved ones would want it to be that way.

My drinking was semi-grief related, but it was also something that I just did. It had been a part of my life for a long time prior to that year. I mostly never thought much about it. There were plenty of moments that I should’ve quit, like the situations mentioned earlier in the writing, but there was no point in dwelling on it now. The past was the past and all that remained was the current moment.

There was one more slip-up weekend before I finally called it quits for good. And just like that, another life change. There was no magic moment for stopping and there was no magic trick to staying stopped. It was a lot of self-discipline and journal writing. As my head started to clear more, I’d have an easier time processing and dealing with things. Soon, my physical health would improve as I’d have much better workouts and recovery. My mind was getting sharper as well, and with that came some big creative ideas.

Quitting was no walk in the park. The first few weekends, I really wanted to go back. I’d always think to myself, what’s really the point? As results and time started coming into my life, it got easier to stay the course and eventually, it was just my new life. The challenges of the pandemic would continue and it could still be quite the battle at times, but now I was upgraded to a newer version of the person that I had been and I had a brand new weapon to combat all the shit; Media Pod Smash.

Near the end of 2020, I started doing creative stuff again with my friend Ryan, in the form of a podcast called Vamping About Voorhees, an in-depth look at the Friday The 13th series. It had woken something up from inside of me that was desperately trying to come out but was always getting pushed down with substances. Vamping About Voorhees would eventually morph into rebooting my old podcast, the one that you are currently listening to. And the rest, as they say, was history.

Section Three: The 30 Day Challenge and Conclusion

When I first started this essay, it was the beginning of March. Due to adding things and life generally happening, it is now more like late April at the time of writing this section.

Once I wrapped up my walk on that particular afternoon, I thought about all the things that lead up to where I am now. Drawing from past experience, I decided that the best course of action would be to do a 30-day challenge. It was something I’d done in the past and it managed to help get me fired up while quitting my nasty habit of drinking daily energy drinks. It’d be the perfect way to climb out of the Winter pit that I had been in. This current challenge: daily exercise, meditation 2x per week, and no desserts or sweets.

Like any sort of positive change in life, my challenge started out feeling exciting and new. From day one, I was immediately off to the races and was killing it. Early on, nearly every morning, I’d make sure that exercise was the first thing that I did every day when I woke up, otherwise, it’d become too much of a nagging feeling that stuck with me until it was finally done. To be fair, I was already working out pretty regularly, just not every single day.

Each day I’d record a brief audio log to hold myself accountable and later be added to a larger collection that’d be posted at the end of each week. Whenever taking something on, I believe that having some sort of accountability is great, whether that be through another person or by just putting your intentions out into the universe and letting it be known that this is what your plan is. I also liked the audio logs because they gave me something semi-creative to do every day, and that helped keep up some sort of momentum.

I decided on adding meditation to my challenge because I really want to get back to a place of mindfulness and calm. The ability to slow down and manage racing thoughts is a great tool for getting through this wild, mess of a life. I’ve known what it is like to be much more zen and that experience is all of the convincing that I need. I figured that I’d ease into things by starting with just meditation 2x for the first week, then I’d slowly increase the amount as the month progressed.

I was still killing it by the middle of the month. My biggest challenge came during Tecmo tourney weekend. That’s right, Tecmo was back in full swing, and during one of the weekends in March, I stayed overnight at a friend’s house. The challenge was trying to find a way to squeeze a workout in. It wasn’t the biggest deal in the world, but there was a new environment and there was lots going on that day. It could’ve been easy to just say screw it, this is just a fun cheat day, but nah. I got up early and ran around his neighborhood, keeping the streak alive.

Near the end of my challenge, I hit a giant wall: sickness and injury. These were two things that are always a possibility, yet I rarely ever consider them as I’m going through something like this. Especially when they happen at the same time.

In the past, I’ve trudged through some sickness and have still been able to muster up some light movement. This particular sickness kept me off my feet for a couple days, so that was out of the question. The injury wasn’t major, but something that I hadn’t experienced before. My knee had blown up to a large size, and although I didn’t really have any pain, I was pretty concerned.

It turned out to be bursitis and would immediately put a halt on my running and cardio. As someone who is a big fan of that type of activity, I was super bummed out by that. I remember early on, when I was first getting into some good routines, I’d think to myself, this is so ingrained now, I can’t see a scenario in which this ever ends. The thing is, even if you get yourself into some great habits for long periods of time, it’s possible to suddenly get off course if you stop for any reason. I found myself staring down that road and it worried me.

As for the remainder of the challenge, I did manage to end it on a high note. My sickness only killed about two days and the rest of the time I managed to do strength training and avoid anything that’d further screw with my knee.

By the end, I should’ve felt really accomplished. I may have missed two days, but I did nearly everything else to perfection. The reading that I added as an amendment, the meditation, and the desserts/sweets avoidance (except during the Tecmo tournament in which I cheated a little and had some weird chocolate coffee balls). I should have had my arms raised high and all the momentum on my side, but I was still too concerned about my knee.

Instead of continuing to adhere to my challenge rules, I broke them right away at the start of April and began to eat lots of garbage food. Some days I’d do some light activity or worse, just not work out at all. Just like that, I was starting to slip back into this old version of myself. No accountability, just complete apathy. I was slipping into a pit and feeling sorry for myself. So, this is how it ends, huh? Just like that, a few bumps in the road and a complete spiral off course. This was crazy. I was doing everything right for over three years now and over the course of a month, it completely blows up? No. This couldn’t be how it ends.

I thought back to the trials from that awful year of 2020. There were moments of complete hell. Some of my darkest times have been during that year and though it sucked, I’d always make it to the other side, proving to myself that I’m resilient and capable. Every day a choice can be made. I continue to fight on in the face of adversity because there’s a woman that I loved who always did the same. There’s a legacy that needs to be continued at any cost.

So, I write this having freshly climbed out of a pit. This won’t be the last one, so I’ll always be vigilant. The light on the outside is familiar, yet it’s very bright and will take some adjusting. The knee continues to heal and little by little, day by day, I build the momentum back up. The pity party is over and it’s time to continue the fight. I’ve passed out on hills, gotten into drunken confrontations, grieved my way through a pandemic, and if I were to stop writing the epic story of life just because of a little knee problem and falling into some old habits, well, that’d be pretty unfortunate.

My friends, when life comes at you hard, draw from your past experiences, remember the person that you’ve been forged into, know where you want to go, and come back at life even harder. It may not seem like it, but you’ve got everything you ever needed inside of you. Here’s to climbing out of pits and continuing the heroic journey.

Media Pod Smash, off!

This show is sponsored by: Seasons of Life Memorials

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Episode 167 – Return of The Long Dark

Summary

In this special scripted episode, I do some deep reflecting and try to combat the long dark.

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

To read along:

Return of The Long Dark

The party is over. No more spooky posting marathons, no presents or obnoxious songs, no confetti or balls dropping; just the long dark. Sigh. While walking the sidewalks of one of my favorite towns, basking in the beautiful Summer sun, I know what’s coming, but it feels so far off at the time, who cares? Well, here we are, right in the middle of it. It was a pretty mild start to the winter here, so I shouldn’t be bitching, yet I can’t help myself. It’s not that right now and currently, it feels like a sick day.

Trapped inside, bouncing from the TV to the treadmill, to the computer, and of course, a few trips to the fridge thrown in there every now and again as well. The only difference from this and a sick day is that I’m perfectly healthy and would love to go out, but it’s fucking brutal out there and my ambition is gone. Now, a few critics may say, “come on, Mr. Positive Guy! Why not bundle up and try to make the most of it?” Well, screw you! You make the most of it and stop hypothetically criticizing my every waking move! I’m a human being, damnit! Whew, sorry about that.

The long dark tends to change people. Good, normal people can become monsters in the long dark if not careful. It’s cold as fuck and there’s tons of snow everywhere. Had this been during the week, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad; they may cancel activities and I would have had a day off of work. Instead, it’s over the course of an entire weekend. Mother nature, you bitch! Thanks for that, really kind of you.

I mindlessly scroll and see others trying to make the most of it via social media. Skiing, snowboarding, snowmobiling, a bunch of activities that can only be done during this season. Good for them, but I don’t have an interest in freezing my balls off just to transport myself from one area to another using a special winter mode of transport. I’ve tried to ski and snowboard in the past and it wasn’t pretty. Now that I’m older and get random aches and pains, I can assume it’ll be just as not pretty. It’s not like I’m against physical activity. If you know me, you know that I’m a bit of a freak when it comes to running and working out, but all that Winter shit? No, not for me. All I want to do right now is veg out in the hot tub and reflect on things.

The ultimate place to think, my zen place to escape when I start to get a little too bitter for my own good; my hot tub. It has always helped center me, especially during the long dark. I’ve written about this a few times in the past, most recently in my “Zen & Other Stuff” episode. It’s a place that I’ve meditated in, quite successfully in the past. The heat, jets, little waterfall, and beautiful night sky are all factors that aid in this practice. I should be attempting to meditate right now, but I’m just here to chill out at the moment. My brain is super-wired and there’s so much to think about. I know how important it is to return to zen, but I just need to survive the long dark right now.

I sit up for a moment and attempt to air-dry my hands enough to grab my phone. A few minutes later, I’m scrolling and scrolling and scrolling. Oh, fuck. This is one of those places where you shouldn’t be doing that. Not just because it could potentially fall in the water, but also the fact that it’s a sacred spot. This is the one place that needs to be a retreat from the constant dopamine chase that my brain is on. Put the damn phone down, self! Back to the reflecting. I’m not asking you to force happiness, but I will force you to stay present and in the moment. Look up. What do you see? An overcast shitty winter sky…okay, stop looking up. Just close your eyes and let the thoughts come and go.

More time passes and eventually, the jets run through their cycle and turn off. We’ve reached one of the most difficult points of owning one of these things; exiting. It’s not a far walk back inside, but those few seconds of closing the lid, grabbing my stuff, and running to the door, really suck. I won’t do it. I refuse. Maybe I could just spend the rest of my life here. I’ll order all of my essentials through delivery services with a special note to the driver to bring the items to the open tub around the back. I’ll find a job where I can now work remotely from my new hot tub office space. Great views and lots of space for all of my stuff; even spots for coffee. Okay, I know I’m being ridiculous but I hit the jets button and start them back up. I will leave at some point, just not now. There is a bit more reflection needed.

Is this an escape from the pressing responsibilities of life, disguised as a long moment of reflection and an attempt to get centered? My room could use a good cleaning, I’ve got bills to pay, and there’s a bunch of creative stuff on the back burner. I’d bet that just addressing one of these things would feel good and help go a long way in combating the feelings that come with the long dark. It’s not like I’ve been doing nothing though. My good habits are still in place, my streak of crushing bad habits continues, and January happened to be a big month of growth for my YouTube channel. There are a lot of positive takeaways, yet I feel like I could be doing so much more. What’s wrong with me? I don’t know, let’s hit the jet button again.

The end of Fall and the whole month of December were smooth sailings for me. The weather helped, but even on the shitty days, I had a great mindset. Let’s see, what the hell did I write about last year? Maybe there’s something in that guide. If I can’t follow my own advice, it’ll be really tough to sell that upcoming book. I know I’m not supposed to pull out the phone, but let’s make an exception. Alright, here we go, Tip #1: Forgive Yourself and Keep Moving Forward! Hey, that’s pretty good, me. I forgive you for not doing as much as you set out to do on this dreary day. Let’s move forward after this jet cycle finishes up.

I continue to read through the rest of my tips but soon find myself straying from the page and heading over to the Reddit app. Quickly I catch myself. Dammit! Put the phone back down. I slowly put the phone down as the next jet cycle stops. Okay, time to get out, I’m getting all pruney and I’m sure it’s pretty late. Fuck it, one more. I hit the button once again and lean back while closing my eyes.

I recently celebrated a birthday, the big 3-2. I wonder if aging also adds to what I’m feeling right now. It’s not like I feel old or anything I’m in good shape. I could probably run laps around my 20-year-old self, but it does seem to have arrived quite quickly. I can still remember those early days of navigating this world as a young adult like it was yesterday.

I graduated from high school in 2009. I had no major honors or letters or anything like that, but lots of hope for the future. I had mega dreams and was sure that one day I was going to be a filmmaker or be involved with some other type of creative endeavor. All I had to do was get through the hurdle that was college and not drink too much. That seemed easy enough; I hardly ever drank in high school and I was smart enough to get through all of that schooling pretty easily, even if I did have a few issues with studying and motivation. Those things could be worked on, I figured.

My college of choice was UW-Waukesha, a fairly close-to-home, commuter school. At the time, I was a bit of an anxious kid and didn’t want to move anywhere right away. Plus, this was affordable and would be a stepping stone to another, larger school after a couple of years. By that point, I could have a bunch of money saved and I’d be ready to move into the next chapter. Then, after that, hello Hollywood! The plan looked good on paper, most things do. Especially if you are using some really fancy stationary or burned the edges and wrote with a quill, in order to make it look old-timey. However, in execution, the plan was much different.

It began toward the end of the Summer of 09. I had already taken the necessary steps and familiarized myself with the school a bit by this point. Currently, I was in the car with my family headed to the school for orientation day, not feeling super-stoked about things. The way I saw it, I already had close friends at home and as a commuter, was just here for the school. I didn’t need to get all spirited and join a bunch of clubs; I was feeling “too cool” for that. In all reality, I was more just nervous and anxious about things. All of this was so new. Strange classes, no familiar faces, and a constant drive back and forth. I was worried about what was coming and hoped that I was making the right choice. I’d most likely only have one shot at this thing and felt a bit of pressure.

Orientation started with a small group tour around campus. It was a really nice place. Small and pretty easy to navigate. It felt like just a slightly upgraded version of high school to me. After the tour, we went into an auditorium to listen to some speeches and get some university swag. I remember sitting there, watching lots of people get into the spirit, mingling with one another, shouting and throwing swag around. I should have gotten in on this, but I continued to sit silently with my folks. This wasn’t me, not in that moment. I still had so much on my mind, as well as the previous reasons mentioned.

Deep into September, as I started to get more acquainted with my environment, I became more open to experiences. I had an idea for a film and would need some creative and like-minded collaborators in order to pull this thing off. Also, there were lots of gaps in between my classes and I didn’t want to sit around all day being a complete loner. Early on, I was presented with a great opportunity to meet people: club sign-up day. This was an all day campus event with live music, food, and every potential club at the school lined up at individual tables with their advisor and sign-up sheet. Looking back, this day would prove to be one of the most impactful of all the days during my time at this place.

I remember walking outside into the courtyard and being overwhelmed by the music, tables, and crowds. I had already heard about a club that I was interested in, now I just needed to find it. “Let’s see, Math club…hell no. Some political nonsense…pass. Film club, here we go!” I had located the Film Club table and met two people who would become those collaborating, creative types that I had in mind.

There was Damon, a professor and head of the film club. This was a guy with a passion for film and he totally knew his shit. I’d end up learning a lot from this guy, mostly practical film skills that I still use when creating videos. My last semester was mostly loaded with classes taught by Damon, but we’ll get to that part eventually.

Then, there was Derek, a student who was the same age as me. He shared the same interest in video and storytelling. We’d go on to create a few short films together, throughout our limited time spent there. His professionalism and grand visions for what could be were always something that impressed me.

The club would meet once a week and did many things. Early on, we shot a short horror film. We met over the course of three different weekends, each person from the club bringing a unique set of skills to the table. The end product was something special that we could all look back on and say, “hell yeah, we did that”. Not only that, but we’d eventually get to show the film at a student film fest that we created! I learned a lot from film club and am so glad that I made the decision to join up. It still amazes me that we were able to pull all those things off. Year one truly started with a bang.

However, this was something I could not say the same about in regards to other college adventures. Near the end of semester number two, I found myself going through a pretty shitty breakup, not that any of them are ever all that good. It added to the anxiousness that I was already feeling from just trying to navigate this new world. On top of that, I started to feel a little disenchanted with the whole college thing in general. I knew that I’d have to get through the gen eds to get to the good stuff, but I was already struggling and getting bored.

By year two, film club lost some key members, but also picked up a few new ones as well. We continued to do some amazing things: another film fest, another student collaborative film, and some pretty cool promo videos, just to name a few. Some days, I felt like this was the only good thing about school, as sad as that sounds.

The film that I had dreams of creating was starting to implode and I started to get more into drinking. Things that used to seem really important to me, weren’t so much anymore. My grades started to decline, as well as my effort. The future started to freak me the fuck out.

When I first signed up for this, I envisioned a two year stint, an associates degree, then a transfer to a four year school to finish things out. After that, I could break into the creative industry and live my dreams. It seemed so simple at the time, yet as I stood at the entry of my early-ass class on the first day of year three, I realized, maybe it was a little bit more complicated.

This year ended up being a pretty big waste, aside from the film classes that I took. They didn’t really count for much, but if this was going to be it for me then damn it, I was going to learn some film-making techniques! One class that I attempted was History of Western Civilization. This was something that did count and would’ve gotten me real close to the end. All I needed to do was buckle down and concentrate. Instead, I blew a lot of shit off and ended up failing pretty badly. I felt really dumb, but also had the idea that I could retake that or something similar in the next semester.

Other classes that semester were pretty close to that History ordeal. I’d end the first half of year three with my worst GPA yet. My last memory of that semester was walking out of a class before finishing the final because I didn’t think it was going to go very well anyways. In fact, that was my last memory of that school. There would be no second semester in year three. I told myself and everyone close to me that I was going to take a break, but I never returned. I felt like a pretty big failure; a big, directionless failure, who now had to bump himself up to full-time in retail.

As time progressed, I moved up through the company a tiny bit until I realized how much all that corporate bullshit sucked. I never had any proper training, I constantly got yelled at by shitty costumers and management, and to be fair, I wasn’t always the best team player either. I was a cynical, drunk asshole. I was entitled and at times had a certain unwillingness to learn or do things that were required. I didn’t want to be like this or have my life be like this at all. Truthfully, I was just really scared and defeated. I had only one path in my mind during all of this and when that didn’t work out, I didn’t know what to do. At a certain point, I decided to step down from management. I didn’t know much, but I did know that this couldn’t be my life. I told everybody that I’d be going back to school and returning to part-time. The part-time part was true, the schooling was a big, fat, lie.

I actually did want to, yet I couldn’t get the ball rolling. I dragged my feet a whole bunch and it just never happened. The next year, co-workers would ask me how school was going. Those words stung like hell. I wanted to tackle them to the ground and scream, however, I think that would’ve been grounds for dismissal, and it’s not like they knew the truth. I’m assuming that they were just trying to be friendly and supportive.

Instantly, I snap back to reality. The jets have stopped again. I think I’ve got something to help combat this long dark. I grab my phone, this time, with still pretty soggy hands, quickly pulling up my past long dark tips again. Tip #4: Find Fulfilling Activities. Are you thinking what I’m thinking, self? Creative endeavors, video games, working out, all very fulfilling activities, but what if there was something else? What could be more fulfilling than taking the first steps towards going back to finish out that big thing that has haunted me for over a decade?

Is this some crazy thinking brought on by the long dark? I’d ask myself that many times after have my initial a-ha moment about this. The long dark does make people think and act differently, yet I have a feeling that this was going to spring up at some point regardless of the weather or season. Prior to the long dark, I found myself approaching a crossroads. Things in my work are changing and the comfort that I once felt in my position, isn’t the same as it used to be. For the most part, I still really enjoy where I’m at and what I do, but would I forever?

One of the craziest things that comes from sobering up is clarity. I see everything in so much detail now, good and bad. The things that I used to be able to bury, I really can’t anymore. If something’s pulling me in a direction, I can no longer ignore it.

A few days and a few important conversations after that fateful hot tub session, I find myself digging out an old copy of my transcripts. As I scan the document, my mind flashes back to all of those crazy days and I notice that I have just 14 credits to go. The paper begins to shake in my hands as I well up with emotion. I remember the reason why I even have this copy in the first place; one day, my mom and I took the steps to find out how to proceed and get some information on going back. Years later, I think I’m really going back. I’m going to do it for her, for combating the long dark and future long darks, and most importantly, for me. I’m going to prove to myself that I’m not that stupid guy who just bails on things when the going gets tough and that I can actually fucking finish what I start.

So, here I sit, typing this out, trying to put a nice bow on things. I’m not going to lie, I’m a bit anxious and the process of re-applying makes me a little nervous. This time though, I won’t drag my feet. I’m going to do what I need to do to go back and finish that damn associate’s degree. From there, who knows? All I really know right now is that I’m feeling really hopeful and hope is a great elixir for that dreaded Wisconsin cold.

Sorry if you were expecting a bit more about how to get through the Winter, I didn’t exactly see this twist coming either. We can still end with a big lesson though if you’d like. That lesson is something that I’ve probably mentioned in the past, yet it’s always nice to reiterate. The lesson is, it’s never too late. Even if you gave up hope a long time ago and found yourself spiraling out of control as a drunken cynical mess of a person, it’s not over until it’s over. So, here’s to finishing what we start and hitting that jet button over and over and over again until we figure it out.

Media Pod Smash, off!

Episode 160 – Zen & Other Stuff

Summary

This week, I present an essay about trying to become more zen…and other stuff.

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 153 – October Reflections

Summary

This week, I return to the essay well. 

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 142 – What I Learned From My 30 Day Challenge

Summary

In the triumphant return of the scripted episodes, I give a recap of my 30 day energy drink challenge and riff on some other stuff too.

Ending music: Karl Casey @ WhiteBatAudio

Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mediapodsmash/support

Episode 117 – Surviving The Long Dark

In this month’s scripted episode, I attempt to explain my struggles during the long dark, and what I actively try to do about it.

 

To read along:

 

Media Pod Smash Episode #117:

Surviving The Long Dark

By: Jeremy Jordan

 

Section 1 – Introduction

 

The air outside stings. Just the thought of stepping one foot out there makes me want to just crawl underneath the floorboards and curl up into an extended hibernation. Besides, even if I wanted to step out there, I wouldn’t be able to do it. Someone just emptied a bag of bowling balls out onto my chest. I’m trapped on the mattress. Oh, wait a second. Upon closer inspection, it would appear that’s actually not the case. Why is it so hard to get up then?

 

“I’ll tell you why. It’s because deep down you know you’re just a failure and a fraud. That was a nice little experiment you had going there though. The quitting of the substances, trying to be a quote, unquote, better person. Why don’t you write your next essay about how you stayed up watching garbage YouTube Top 10 videos while eating a whole box of Better Cheddars? That sounds like a good one. Really man, who wants your inspirational pep talks? Where’s your credentials? I’ve got an idea; let’s just open the bottle and forget all this nonsense. The long dark is real simple to get through if you don’t feel much of any of it.”

 

Whoa. Haven’t heard that voice in a while. Hello old friend; winter approaching already?

 

I believe that most of us have a negative voice like this inside of our heads from time to time that can really get out of control if you allow it to. If you aren’t careful, you can even start to believe some really shitty things about yourself. Unfortunately, it’s not so easy to just gain control and some people can have a difficult time turning the voice off or reconditioning it to be positive.

 

I’ve recently had a pretty good handle on mine. In early Spring of this year, I concocted a plan for 31 days of Halloween content. Once I finalized my list, it was just go, go, go! Nearly every weekend from Spring to October was filled with either recording, editing, or writing. I had a concrete goal to aim for and I was on a fucking roll. When Halloween finally arrived and the last video was uploaded, I leaned back in my chair to bask in it for a bit. It seemed overly ambitious at the start, but there I sat, the glow of the computer screen attacking my sleep deprived raccoon eyes and a list with 31 little check marks.

 

I had no idea what my next challenge would be. I figured I’d take a couple weeks to chill, then come up with some thoughts. Much to my surprise, it wouldn’t be a creative challenge that I’d be facing next. No, it was a much different battle.

 

If you’ve ever played Roller Coaster Tycoon games, odds are that somewhere along the line you said to yourself, “let’s see what happens if I launch a coaster without finishing the track”. You hit the test coaster button via the options menu, the coaster builds momentum, and wouldn’t you know it, the thing flies off the track and plummets into a fiery oblivion. The coaster is how this most recent and many other fall to winter transitions feel for me. Slow build of momentum, a pause at the top, a dive, and then suddenly, no more track. Perhaps this feels familiar to you as well.

 

When I start to feel really different, it’s often around the time change. It can vary from year to year but generally that’s the time I know I need to strap in. Luckily for you and I, we can get back on the track unlike those poor pixelated passengers. It won’t always be the easiest thing to do, but we can definitely survive the long dark. It doesn’t just have to be a matter of survival either. If we play our cards right, we can even thrive during it too.

 

When I was a child, I had no idea what seasonal depression was. Heck, I don’t think I really knew what everyday depression was either. Life was mostly just laughing, scoops of ice cream, sleepovers, and seasons just changing. I was extremely fortunate to have had a normal childhood free from significant trauma.

 

As I grew older and experienced more of life, things changed a bit. I finally understood what it felt like to enter into a valley. Some of the valleys that I entered were really easy to climb out of, while some seemed like there was no end in sight. At their deepest, it was most likely that winter was either approaching soon, or had already arrived.

 

With the combination of shitty weather for days and so much darkness, it is really no surprise that many people experience some pretty deep pits during this season. So what’s the solution? How can we take on the long dark head on and come out victorious? Well, you may not like this next bit as it’ll sound over simplistic at first, but you will win another season by simply embracing it. Diving right in.

 

To demonstrate what I mean, allow me to tell you a quick story about a sidewalk. A fun fact about me: I have a favorite sidewalk. Okay, that’s maybe not so much fun as it is weird and maybe even a little bit sad, but I digress. For the past six months or so, the sidewalk and street underwent some major work. Much of it was inaccessible throughout the spring and summer, forcing me to find a new walking route. It’s not like I wasn’t able to adapt or anything like that, but I just like that damn sidewalk. It was a big part of my routine and was an old familiar, comforting, constant force in my life.

 

The construction on the roads and sidewalk finally wrapped up toward the end of November, just in time for the annual visit from Santa at our town square. For me, the timing was perfect. The high from my Halloween project was long gone and I found myself entering into one of those valleys again. I remained consistent with putting podcast episodes up, but otherwise, things were kinda just blah. Though time off for Thanksgiving had helped, I still found myself starting to fall back into some old habits and losing focus. I knew that I needed to get my coaster back on the tracks. I mean, damn, we hadn’t even gotten into the real bad winter months yet.

 

The day of our town’s Santa visit and tree lighting festivities was a Saturday. That whole afternoon I had been rather inactive and it would have appeared that I’d be losing yet another weekend to the long dark, but I remembered the event. More importantly, I remembered the sidewalk. Almost as if a switch had been hit, I peeled myself out of my chair, bundled my ass up, and walked the full length of that glorious sidewalk.

 

The festivities were mostly wrapping up as I arrived, but the lights were a beautiful sight and an instant mood changer. After a bit of appreciation, I continued my route to the very end, where I grabbed a coffee from the local gas station and started to plot my journey back home. I dove right in and turned another run of the mill evening into something else.

 

You may be rolling your eyes at this point and thinking to yourself, “wow Jeremy, you went on a walk, what an accomplishment”. I understand that it’s not a big thing, but that’s the point. Sometimes all it takes to get back on track is a little thing. The difference between a day where you did absolute jack-shit and a day where you didn’t, is a little thing. If you find yourself in a slump, figure out what your version of the sidewalk is and dive in. Feel the cold air slap you across the face and keep walking anyway. You’re alive, damn it, and you’re not about to go down without a fight.

 

So that’s it. No need for more sections, essay over. Alright, not really though. For those of you who aren’t satisfied with just a simple tale about a sidewalk, I’ve got some other practical advice. Before we can go into that though, I think it’s important to look back at the past to learn what didn’t work.

 

Section 2 – How Not To Survive The Long Dark

 

Some of the worst seasonal valleys that I ever experienced in my life were in my early 20’s. For a little bit during that era, I thought that I had died and gone to an icy hell. Every morning in the winter was mental torture. I needed to get to work by five in the morning, so I’d set my alarm for four. I can count on one hand the number of times that I was actually out of bed at that first alarm. Most days I would just lay in disbelief. Had morning really come already, and do I really have to do this again? It’s so brutally cold outside and everything fucking sucks.

 

On my drives to work, I thought of nothing. I was just awake enough to get to work and clock in. Honestly, the work itself wasn’t bad. Not many customers were around at that point to bother me, and I always stayed busy unloading pallets. I wouldn’t have minded it so much if it weren’t for the fact that I never had any energy and my mental health was not doing so great.

 

Looking back on this now, I want to shake that past version of myself and scream, “dude, you don’t have to do this. Just do something else. It’s really that simple.” I knew I hated mornings and was totally unfulfilled from this job, but I suppose I didn’t yet have the tools I needed to realize that I could just walk away and find a different path.

 

My plan to survive the long dark back in those days was to have no plan at all. Well that and numbing myself. I drank and partied a lot. I was rarely foolish enough to drink the night before an early work day, but it did happen a couple times. As previously mentioned in one of my other essays, I didn’t believe that my drinking was ever out of control back then because that was just what people our age did. Live it up and get blasted. I won’t lie to you either, some of those weekends were a lot of fun. I have many cherished memories from the glory days of partying in college, but that doesn’t change the fact that it played a large role in sabotaging what could have been actual productive days.

 

The thing that brought me down the most was that even though I was trapped in a loop of negative patterns and feeling pity for myself, I actually did have dreams. The fact that I kept dreaming, but could never muster up the energy to start running after them would make me feel even more hopeless. It’s not like I didn’t try things either. I remember buying a lamp online that was supposed to simulate the sun rising and play subtle nature noises upon wake-up. It was a total bust that later became a running joke with one of my friends at the time. I tried sleep tracking apps, but without much discipline, those were a bust too.

 

As I think about it, I actually tried many different bizarre solutions and schemes. Anything but just looking at my situation a fixing some core things that were in desperate need of repair. Winter still would’ve been tough, but it didn’t have to be icy hell.

 

Eventually, I would go on to fix things. There was this quote I used to hear during motivational compilations that basically said, if you’ve got air in your lungs, you have the ability to change your circumstances. It meant nothing to me at the time, it was just another fluffy feel good quote. Now, that quote means everything to me. I know with all of my heart and soul that it’s 100% true. If you’re still here, it’s not too late. I learned what not to do from reflecting on my previous poor decision making. I’m at a point now where the winter months look nothing like they did back then. It’s almost as if that was a completely different person’s life whose memories where just uploaded to my brain via weird futuristic device. Don’t get me wrong, the bad days are still bad and the deep valleys sill exist, but now I have a set of skills and positive habits. I can battle through the long dark like never before.

 

In the next section I’m going to share some strategies that have really helped me. Every one of us is very different and there’s many things that work for some that don’t work for others. I’m never going to claim that any of these strategies I’m about to talk about are a cure all. I’m just some guy who has been on the really dark side of things and manged to find his way into the light somehow.

 

Section 3 – The Long Dark Survival Guide

 

Prior to my sidewalk stroll earlier in the month, I had found myself falling back into some nasty old habits. Going down insane internet rabbit holes until four in the morning, eating shitty food, and worst of all, skipping work-outs. When these things start to pile up and I let too many things go, the negative inner voice comes back. It sounds crazy, but taking the walk that evening really did help. I was able to build off of that and I have been doing much better so far. I was able to get back on track rather quickly. As for staying on the track, that brings us to the first tip.

 

Tip One: Forgive Yourself and Keep Moving Forward

 

You are inevitably going to hit some walls in life. Even if you’ve been killing it. Eating TB12 approved snacks, checking goals off the list, staying positive, you know, all that good shit. Some days you’ll wake up and just be in a pit for no good reason. Or maybe something terrible does happen so you have very good reason to suddenly fall into a pit. On these shitty days, you may think shitty things that certainly aren’t true. You may eat some shitty food while sticking to a piece of furniture, watching the same episode of your favorite comfort show. You may even say some shitty things that you don’t mean.

 

I did all of these things while I experienced the beginning of my seasonal funk but I will never dwell on them. It’s okay to stray from the path. It’s okay to fuck up sometimes. It doesn’t make you a bad person. I’ve found that sometimes I just need to tell myself, “dude, chill. It’s going to be alright.” You’ll never be able to climb out of the hole if you continue to make yourself feel worse for the things you did. That’s a bottomless pit with walls that are insanely hard to grip. Once you’ve forgiven yourself, it’s time to move forward. The past is the past and you’ve got breath in your lungs and shit to accomplish.

 

Tip Two: Find a Healthy Balance

 

A couple years ago, I created a new ritual for Saturday afternoons. Get ready for the day, collect my thoughts while listening to some ESPN background noise, and maybe play a couple rounds of a game. It’s hard to imagine a Saturday without those things now unless of course I have plans and need to be out of the house quickly. Sitting on your ass to start out your day can be a dangerous activity, but I’ve been able to find a healthy balance. I’ve made negotiations with myself. Your day doesn’t have to start out like you’ve been shot out of a cannon, but at a certain time you’re going to start running and then check some items off your list. The balance can be difficult to maintain at times, especially during the long dark. It’s so easy to sit there and veg out when it’s miserable out. For me it often helps to remind myself of the deal I’ve made and how good it feels to follow through with things. Not just that, but how good it feels to actually get up and move.

 

Tip Three: Get Up And Move!

 

Ever since I started to become more active in life, I feel like I’ve stumbled upon a secret weapon. One of the things that has helped me the most during the crappy winter months, is just simple exercise. One of the reasons I’m able to maintain a healthy balance is that I usually look forward to working out so it’s not very difficult to pull myself away from my morning ritual. A day with activity just feels like a day that’s easier to take on. Even on days when I really don’t feel like it, I’ve conditioned myself to at least just put the shoes on and try doing something. Odds are, the something turns into a lot more than I imagined. I’m already up and moving at this point, might as well keep going. For example, I may not feel like running on the treadmill on one particularly awful winter morning, but I can say to myself, “alright, you don’t have to run, just get on it at least and see what happens. Sometimes there are days when I don’t feel like it and I do give into those feelings. When that happens, it’s okay. I just consult Tip #1.

 

Tip Four: Find Fulfilling Activities

 

When I started getting my podcast back in order and getting on a regular posting schedule, I realized how much I missed doing creative things. Having hobbies, creative or otherwise, that bring you joy are super important. Having an outlet for some of the things that are on my mind and just generally expressing myself through various forms of media make me incredibly happy. Sometimes I can dive so deep into a project, I’ll forget that the winter is even happening. I don’t know what your fulfilling activity looks like. Maybe you like to draw, or write, or paint, I don’t know. Maybe you aren’t into the artsy stuff and just like to put data onto spreadsheets. I’d probably rather just let the long dark consume me if I had to do that, but everyone’s different. Just working on your “thing” for a small window of time during the day can make a large difference in how you may feel. And who knows, maybe your hobby can even turn into something more. Wouldn’t that be cool?

 

Tip Five: Appreciate The Little Things

 

I had some rather large struggles during the winter of 2020. Aside from the challenges that came with the pandemic, I faced the challenge of a first Christmas without my mother that year. It was very difficult to get into the holiday spirit when someone who had always been there, lighting up the room, ensuring that each year was magical, no matter what, would no longer be there. I guess that one of the things that helped me to cope was to make the 2020 Media Pod Smash Christmas Special. It was a nice distraction and a good excuse to do fun segments with my friends. For the uninformed, that project was a half-assed retelling of A Christmas Carol. At the end of the story, I come to realize an important lesson and wouldn’t you know it, that was based on something that I had actually come to realize in real life that year. I learned to appreciate the little things much greater than I had ever before. My awesome family and friends, my comfort shows, the sun on my face on a still day, my favorite sidewalk. It’s the little things that can save us and get us back on track. When you find yourself really struggling, try to remember the little things.

 

Tip Six: Do Practical Things

 

People don’t often want to hear this because most of the time we all already know. We know exactly what practical things we can do to make our lives easier and we know how to do them as well. So when someone like me writes stuff like remember to take Vitamin D, stay hydrated, keep a positive mindset, maybe get a sun lap, reach out to friends, and so on, people generally aren’t all that thrilled. I’m sorry if you are not thrilled about this tip, but it doesn’t make it any less important to remember.

 

Tip Seven: Hang On Tight

 

When nothing seems to be going right and it would appear that the day has been a complete wash, sometimes all you can do is just hang on tight. Know that tomorrow will come and you can try again. It may seem like it isn’t coming, but it is. Hold on and know that you will be okay.

 

And that takes us to the end of my mini survival guide. There’s much more than that, however, I feel those tips are a great start. This may shock you, but I am not a medical professional. If you are really experiencing a mental struggle, there is no shame is seeking out a professional for help. Life throws a lot of shit at us and it’s okay to ask for help.

 

Section 4 – The Wrap Up

 

Today’s inspirational person of the month is Marty Rogers. Marty, who has lived in the Bronx his whole life, helped start a Thanksgiving dinner at his local church. The event has been running strong for 44 years and throughout that time Marty has involved his family and gotten to interact with some wonderful people. He also started a food delivery program called “Hope Walks”. Marty is a great example of what it means to give selflessly and support a community.

 

The homework last month was all about gratitude. With some of the not so great things that have gone down recently, it’s more important than ever to practice gratitude. It may not always seem like it, but there is plenty to be thankful for.

 

This month the homework is all about the long dark of course. If you struggle with the season, dive right in. Try to implement one of the tips or come up with some strategies on your own if you aren’t so crazy about mine. Just remember, the cold wind will more than likely slap us across the face this season, but if we remember to stick to the plan and not go down without a fight, we may just survive.

 

Media Pod Smash off!

 

-Jeremy