something about trust

For better or worse, I know that I can truly commit to something, at least on a small scale. There are things I know about myself and habits that I form that become just another part of my daily life. For instance, I know that Duolingo will be completed (day 2500-something currently) and I know that I will start every day with my daily wisdom and spiritual readings, and then my financial newsletter. These things will not change. But it's unfortunately taken me way too long in life to commit myself to things that are better for myself and those around me, on a larger scale. In this whole process, I've been focusing on creating those habits and making those thoughts and feelings becoming second nature - becoming real and a part of me - throughout it all.

I’m going to recap this last year of thought and versions of trust that I’ve found and will continue to work towards protecting.

Years ago, when I was in rehab for my alcoholism, there were plenty of things I did right and a lot I got wrong. As I've written about before, I didn't truly get as much out of it as I could. I thought that mere drinking was the only real problem I was dealing with, that if I could only stop that, everything could only get better. Well, sure, not drinking sure made baseline reality a lot more comfortable, but there was so much more that was unaddressed and simply taken at face value -- oh, yeah, the severe bouts of depression and ideation was just normal, surely everyone has those thoughts and feelings. Not true, dumbass. Obvious, in hindsight. But some things taken from that period do still make me feel empowered and are things that I hold onto.

Also making an appearance from previous writings here is my little blue string. One day in rehab, our counselor had us cut a piece of yarn, out of any color available, and assign to it a meaning. Something important to us. I sat for a while, picked out a teal blue length of string, and thought that "gratitude and achievement" were things worth idolizing. I cut the string and tied it onto my bag. That string is still on that same bag and just this week, I've ordered an exact copy of that original bag, which is now on its last legs. Not a bad run, over eight years old and only now showing its age. But that string is still there (and will soon find its new home).

Those two words meant so much to me then and are a comforting, echoing reminder to me now. In this last year of both therapy-based and spiritual growth, I am also coming to realize that the power in that symbolism (those two words) never really left, but instead has evolved. The gratitude (that I felt for my family, friends, loved ones, and professionals who guided me and stuck by my side) and the achievement that I strove for (personal life, professional life, creative endeavors) are both an ongoing process, a living, breathing thing. In my spiritual journey, I've abbreviated the things I hope and work for as, simply: "peace and prosperity."

The angsty teenager me would say, "Hey, jagoff, don't you think those are just two other ways of saying 'gratitude and achievement,'" and I'd probably say, "Yeah."

But it's older to me. There's a wisdom and maturity there, and a forward-looking focus. Gratitude and achievement are reactions and finished goals. Peace and prosperity are and will forever be things to strive for, but not some unrealistic, devastating fiction.

Something that has been repeated multiple times throughout this year is my new outlook on the power of words. Through therapy, mindfulness, study of philosophy, and my spiritual work, a thread that I have always been coming back to is intent and thinking before speaking. It sounds so damn obvious, and it is, but to see it from so many different sources, in different but related ways, is sobering.

I always thought it was a positive attribute, to be able to quickly make a joke about something. I never took into consideration that this was a blade that cut both ways. I was always good for a joke, but I would likewise always be able to go for the jugular in a tense situation, as well. Many situations in which no such venom was remotely required.

Dwelling on this also led to some other realizations. I've spoken about the fear of missing out (FOMO, though I fucking hate that term) and the need to be "everything to everyone." It was naive. It was immature. I couldn't be that to everyone, and I should have never have wanted it. But I thought that that was something people strove to be. Always being available, always opening up to new people and neglecting relationships, never being present... it did a lot of damage. By connecting my self-image to the responses and behavior of (largely) strangers, I strained myself far too thin and lost sight of myself many, many times. Books that I had read and the unlimited online content available insisting that you advertise “yourself” only compounded these thoughts. These last few years have been a time to reflect on who I was and what I really wanted.

I don't need to respond to people immediately, unless they're people important to me. I don't need to put myself out there and chain my self-worth to the minutiae of bullshit social media. When people interact with me, they'll get the guy who loves his family, partner, and close friends, and travels when he can, works and supports his staff and team members, and otherwise spends time in his own head, planning the next creative endeavor. I am not someone to be used. I am not a means to an end. When someone rattles my cage, they'll not get a reaction. That's all they're looking for and something that they'll not receive.

In reading over some old notes and thinking about things that have happened over the last few years, I'm brought back around to the topic of this article: trust.

Trust in myself: consistency has never been difficult to maintain when they were things that were fun or sustaining to my ego, as I mentioned in the intro. I've had to relearn and unlearn many things that were proliferated by the ease in which I could become complacent and selfish. Habit-forming isn't always negative, especially if you know what to look out for from all of the bad stuff. There is a quote that I cannot find at this time that I highlighted in a book. It said something along the line of, “it takes exercise to form new, healthy habits. Why shouldn’t we believe that it also takes exercise to break those negative ones already formed?” In the meantime, here’s a simple one from Aristotle:

We are what we repeatedly do.

I can rely on myself to commit to positive habits. I managed to follow my promise, both to myself and to anyone reading this, to maintain the page with a monthly post. I’ve kept up with therapy and meditating on the things I’ve learned. There’s a minor sense of accomplishment there.

Trust in my partner: as I've said countless times, and it has been said just as many times elsewhere and by better people, communication is the key to building and maintaining trust. There have been many instances, with loved ones and colleagues and neighbors, that years ago I would have let irritation and resentment grow, instead of directly addressing. If there is ever a hint of an issue developing, I’ve now ensured that a conversation is held, even if it's difficult. I will never allow myself to blindside someone with information again. That's been one of my most terrible habits that I've been working to undo. I can only hope the same grace is given to me. Never walk on eggshells and never scatter them for someone else.

Trust in my friends: I've often said that I don't want to speak on behalf of others, and I won't try to do that now. But when you've spent so much of your life dealing with people with agendas, or that are just plain dishonest, it's easy to recognize and appreciate when decent people are around. Living without a constant barrage of strangers having direct access to my attention and spending time with friends or family has really turned me onto a new perspective.

At the end of the day, I cannot believe in some of the mindfucks that we've survived, both individually and as an extended group. From my friends in high school, to my graduate classmates, to my creative partners, and to my best friends. It's fucking obscene how some people acted and it's even worse that I humored it. I wasn't the best I could be in numerous situations and I should have been good enough of a person and good enough of a friend that countless exercises in misery never came to be. But I can't undo that now. I've witnessed people fake pregnancies, cancer diagnoses, terminal illnesses, car accidents, deaths in families, some deaths of their own, trauma dumps, faux PTSD, threats of self-harm, and more, in attempts of getting something from me, and from us. And these people were supposedly "friends" of ours. People to be trusted. Partners. Years ago, I saw a relationship near its end being jet-fueled towards it failure when one of the two people said that, "calling an ambulance is a pain in the ass, but at least then my partner’s paying attention to me," when there was literally no medical need or emergency.

I've been dumbfounded by people's dishonesty, but my own unreliability probably only served as the universe balancing itself out against my tab. I didn't know who or how to trust, and I still might not -- but I know now that I'm providing my honest and truthful self, and if that's still prone to being abused, then so be it.

I'll still come out on the other side as myself.