Breaking of the Noose

Idealism is a fundamental part of who I am.

By that, I mean that I take no small amount of pride in believing that the world operates (or should operate) a particular way and everything would work out just fine if everyone could conform to that idea. We’d have no debt, no sorrow, and no fear of the future. We would have no noose by which to hang ourselves which, incidentally, is how I view the majority of the trappings of our day-to-day.

In my personal life away from the blog and social media, I am a very different person. The man you see writing these things is a long curated and carefully groomed version of myself. I can alter my words so that I present the exact version of myself to you that I want to present. I use that carefully, to often tell of my own downfalls, but there is a great deal of trickery that comes with writing in a forum such as this.

For years, this blog was a place to vent frustration and inspire, hopefully, so that others wouldn’t fall down the same path that I had chosen to tread. I do still think that it so important, and I don’t want to abandon all hope completely but there are things working behind the scenes that have started to shift my state of mind. I have fallen out of love with many things throughout my life, and I know what those things are. When the feeling comes I try to pump as much energy into it as I can, I want to make my goodbyes dramatic and intense, and powerful. I want the world to know that I was there and even if I never made a difference at least I was trying.

That being said, the same thoughts have invaded my mind about my home.

Back in 2016/17, the annual theme of the blog was called “Noose Ends” and was a tool I’d used to analyze and help me separate the things in my life that kept me alive, that I loved, and that were actively harming me. I used it as a medium for cutting ties with all the things that would kill me, mentally, spiritually, or physically. As I took the sword and hacked away at strands of thread left suspended from old relationships and old dreams, I began to feel… detached from myself.

I’ve long admitted that I am not simply myself, I am a small piece of everyone and everything I’ve ever loved. Some of my favorite things were given to me by failed lovers, the method I use to handle money was taught to me by a man I stopped liking for a long time. So many aspects of my life are holdovers from people or things I no longer have in my life. I keep them because of the memories associated with them, or in some cases because they are all that I know. They became hanging threads in a network of nooses that always threatened to catch me off guard.

Among that forest of ropes, I found myself unable to move on, or continue forward because of the attachment I had to places and things. I felt this way about my hometown. As much as I wanted to move on to bigger and better places, I was stuck in a noose that had been tied together out of pieces of so many other memories. I was caught in a web of my own design, and I felt trapped.

So I cut the cord.

I tore as much of that out of my attic as I could until I was left with one, singular rope. The hanging thread that was wrapped with spun strands of fear and guilt, anger, and the feeling that if I can’t survive here on my own, how could I survive somewhere else? It swung in the drafty attic of my mind for years, until this one. A lot of my writing has been about things I felt and learned during the pandemic, but I took so much time off and didn’t want to bog myself down that I never spoke about them and having spent so much time away from this and away from the places and people I loved I realized that I was slowly choking myself with my own ideals.

I was using that final noose, that attachment to the places I’m familiar with, to slowly drain me of my passion. I blamed everything on where I lived and who I knew, I couldn’t bear to accept that my stress was a creature of my design. I had built so many things up in my mind to be the best they would ever be, and I robbed myself over and over of the chance to make things better. So I found myself today, at the end of a long rope. I’ve seen the end of my future over and over again. I’ve dreamed it and considered it, I’ve feared it and I’ve fallen for the tricks it tells and I came out the other side with the knowledge that the only thing holding me back…

Is me.

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