"Old Journals"

Last night I stumbled across one of my old journals from about ten years ago. Reading it was a bit of a trip.

Many of the things I wrote about were things I still think about today. Things like needing a job, feeling fat, and generally wondering what the fuck is wrong with the world--especially when it comes to how miserable so many people are with their jobs. The insomnia issues were there, and obsessions about women too. Some things I wrote about were very different than how things are today. There were many of entries about weed, like trying to control the smoking by taking breaks to 'prove' to myself I didn't have a problem. Booze was in there, too.

I wrote a lot about being unhappy with life and waiting for it to get better. Things like, if only I moved; if only my band got discovered; if only this, if only that, etc., etc., then I'd be happy. There would even be the occasional entry about how things were going well and I was happy. There were entries too--particularly from the times I wasn't smoking--where I talked about how miserable I really was and how that’s why I was always getting fucked up.

As has been shared by others and is true for me, what's different now is that everything has changed and nothing has changed.

I still look at the world and think, "what the fuck?!" In fact, one of my big hopes for when I pass from this world into the next is that I get that question answered. I'm not drinking or smoking myself to sleep anymore, obviously. The weight is an issue for me right now, but it's something I'm working on; I exercise these days--whether it's running, walking, pushups or dumbbells--and that's something I never used to do. Sometimes I do still get that feeling of waiting for life to happen, but for the most part I combat it by taking action, doing something to make sure I'm living life in the here and now.

I can see the differences between then and now, but the similarities are what struck me. And it isn't so much any of the things I've written about here, just a general 'I know this guy' feeling. Like, I'm still who I am--or maybe even more so that who I am is who I was. The Zach inside is still the same Zach. On the one hand, I have no idea if that makes any sense. On the other, well duh of course I'm still Zach and always have been.

It was interesting, regardless, to get a better picture of myself and be reminded that there are just certain things about who I am. One of those is that I'm someone who thinks about the world around me; I don't just go through life on autopilot. Ten years ago, I was restless, irritable, and discontent. Today, I do still feel those things from time to time, but as part of the normal human experience.

A couple similarities stood out that were really good to see, but even in those I can see how I've changed. The importance of my music was in there. My music is still very important to me, but I no longer do it under the sole hope or justification that I'll become rich & famous for it; it is truly my art now, my hobby, and I do it for myself because I enjoy doing it. God was the other thing. There were entries, prayers to God to save me and lift me out of my misery. I've shared in meetings that I came into the program having a higher power in my life, but I didn't know how to use it. Now I understand that I have to do my part, take action, even if that action is nothing more than letting go and letting God take care of whatever it is I’m obsessing over.

I’m not always diligent about keeping a journal, but it’s something I’ve done off an on for most of my life. Going back and reading about what it used to be like is an education, both in terms of my forgetting how bad things were and also seeing that even in the midst of my active addiction, I was still me. It’s another stepping stone on the path of self-acceptance.