Life Is Nothing Like I Thought It Would Be
Only a few days ago, I turned 35 years of age.
It was always a huge benchmark for me, one where I assumed I’d have all my shit figured out. I was going to be married to a gorgeous looking brunette and we’d have a couple of good looking kids sat in the back of the Range Rover. My business would be making me a shit load of cash and I’d finish work at 1pm on a Friday so that we could head down to our holiday home in Cornwall for the weekend.
Yeah….that didn’t work out. I’m a single dude, child free and still have a fuck load of bills to pay. I used to think that you’d ‘made it’ if you had kids, owned a 4 bed house, drove a shiny car and wore a Rolex.
My mid twenties and early thirties were testing.
I’d lied and cheated my way into some pretty deep shit and I made some enemies along the way. Many hours were spent down the police station dealing with a particularly nasty situation.
Paranoia escalated and I went to sleep each night with a baseball bat in my right hand. It was relentless. My business collapsed, I lost all my money and I had managed to fuck up yet another meaningful relationship.
I was torn up inside, and those closest to me would be on the receiving end of my low moods and short temper. It was only when things were at there worst that I learned the most about myself. I knew exactly what I didn’t want when I was sat on the floor of my new home, drinking Stella at 9am, eating a greasy Greggs sausage roll in my stinking dressing gown.
I had to drag myself up off the floor and do the work. Every single day. I’d often get it wrong wasting money on fluffy mentors, CBT therapists, self help books, cheap hypnotherapy tapes. I’d even chase a new woman to see if that would make me feel any better.
And it wasn’t until I starting working with a guy called Paul Mort that life began to show signs of hope again. He didn’t give me the sympathy and hug that I thought I needed. I’d been receiving that for years. Instead, he punched me in the mouth (not literally) and told me some fucking hard truths that I needed to hear. I spent the last 5 years of my life beating myself up for all my wrongs. I was heavily depressed, highly anxious and totally paranoid. It was at that point change was a must. That was that, enough was enough. I had to raise the standards in my life and get the help that I needed. I was taught that you can change the way you feel by changing the way that you live.
My bad days, demons, insecurities and anger still linger, its work in progress. Putting a label on it or calling it depression or anxiety has not helped me. I’ve just had to accept that I have to work pretty damn hard to keep my health upstairs decent.
Honestly, I think if I hadn’t had fucked my life up in the way that I did then I wouldn’t be experiencing the good stuff. I’m still changing my life, Im a better man and I’m committed to being an even better one. I’ll keep fucking up, I accept that. But all those small actions that I’ve taken every single day have made a huge difference.
I’ve installed the confidence and courage to chase the things in life that I want to do. I’ve learnt how to block out a lot of the noise around me, putting the important stuff into perspective. My skin is thicker so that I can handle the negative and judgemental comments that come my way. I’ve built better relationships and created exciting experiences in my life. All of this has become my sole focus.
There are people out there who are truly suffering, and we need to be there for them. But for people like me, who were stuck in a fucking horrible place they don’t want to be we need to encourage them to have the belief that things can be different and that taking positive action is the only way forward.
If I hadn’t have had that punch in the mouth and continuously done the work then life could be very different for me right now. Life may not be perfect, it may not be how I had hoped. But I’m learning whats really important.
Don’t let your faulty expectations of life determine your next move. You have it all to play for.