First In Flight
'Ennui' is a term that's really only reserved for pretentious people because "yeah, I don't give a shit about most anything, anymore" is just as easy to say.
Real talk-- like two years ago, now, I moved to North Carolina pretty randomly for a year. It was a mixture of a lot of things. Largely not wanting to ever go back to LA (I'm back, now) and burning out entirely on a life/career dependent on putting up with my Ex-Girlfriend on a daily basis (she can be wonderful, at times, but she can also be an Ex-Girlfriend).
I didn't have a plan. I just thought I'd go somewhere else and find something else. Anything else.
I found the gym (got back into really good shape but out of shape, again, already) and a pretty solid 'drinking beers by myself' passtime. Started writing a lot, again, which is good. But, by and large, the entire North Carolina experience was nothing. I didn't try to build a new life or new career. I just hid in a house in the mountains by myself, drinking Yuengling and watching movies.
It got bad.
Like, "what the fuck is this?" bad.
I had to come to terms with a lot of things about myself and, mentally, where I was and where I allowed myself to get to.
Quick recap-- I had a pretty Norman Rockwell upbringing. Raised by very Christan parents from a small town who were high school sweethearts. My Dad was a career military man. So a lot of "yay Jesus and America."
Now, I still love me some America but Jesus and I don't talk much anymore. I mean, we wave at each other if we see one another in public. We're not dicks. We just know there's nothing between us.
By the time I was 19, I abandoned any sort of faith in a higher power and, after a few years of being fucked over by authority figures, pretty much lost faith in any sort of man made establishments as well.
By the time college ended, the appropriate descriptors were Agnostic and Existentialist. I didn't believe in anything higher than humanity but had no evidence there was no larger entity or purpose. But even if there was a God or some sort of reason behind the Universe, it didn't appear to actually interact with humans. All I knew is that I existed, I would one day die and believed/still believe that's all a person gets.
Now, that worldview is only as dark as you let it be.
I went off and had adventures.
Moved across the country, tried to make it work with a girl, got into the film and television industry. Had my first real heartbreak. Kept working, fell in love and tried to make it work with another girl. Traveled a lot more, worked a lot, started a company, made some great friends. Had my second devastating heartbreak. Kept working, grew that company, made some decent money.
Just kept my head down, doing the work and jumping to the next lilypad.
See, an interesting thing happened in that blur of gigs and plane rides-- I stopped allowing things to come in.
Fun fact-- I don't particularly like people. Like, most humans are awful. And, after a life of moving around every 2-3 years starting at birth and a career of freelancing and constantly starting over and meeting new faces, job-to-job, you get good at defenses and building an approachable, likable enough false persona.
I can count the people I've let see the real me on my two hands. Maybe even one.
And this isn't a pity party thing --just explaining the necessary details for context-- but I only ever loved two women. And I only ever let two women know the actual me. And both those women left me... that kinda thing sticks in your craw...
This next part feels necessary but I'll forgo a lot of the details because I'm a gentleman. When the second girlfriend dumped me --y'know, the one I'd just started a company for by investing my entire life savings into it-- I just kept trucking on. There was just too much fucking work to do to get introspective. And, honestly, if you knew her or knew us, it didn't feel like that big of a deal, at the time. I mean, it hurt but I honestly spent the next two years just assuming it was some dumb fight and that we were obviously going to get back together.
And then two years later, you lift your head up long enough to go "Jesus, it's been two years... I guess we are broken up."
And, at the time, I was a handsome enough guy who had a cool job and money in the bank and lived on the road. And I was kinda angry at the world. And I started taking advantage of that.
Again, I won't go into details but some things happened. To a degree that, one night, I had to ask myself "wait. Am I actually this guy?"
I didn't want to be. So I stopped.
That was years ago, now.
Essentially, having the only two women you've ever loved choosing 'not you' over 'you' can fuck you up pretty good. It will destroy your entire sense of self. You will build up your defences higher than ever before because you don't ever want to let anyone in, again. Because all it does is hurt and, apparently, you're not a good enough person to get to know deep down inside.
And the alternative-- emotionless relationships and being a scumbag-- leaves you feeling even worse.
Quick Sidenote-- first Ex-Girlfiend asked me a few years back why I'm not dating. My response was twofold--
1) Because I tried it twice and it went bad twice. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
2) When you only ever love two women and they both independently decide that you're not worth loving back, you do begin to villify and degrade any hypothetical woman who would actually love you in the future. What would have to be wrong with them? "I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member."
So, North Carolina...
I didn't have a plan. And, Spoilers, I don't really wind up with one at the end of this, either.
All I knew was every day was the same, I made no effort to make it better and I didn't care.
I mean, I was working out and writing and we had a Pitch deal for a TV series (which, Spoilers, doesn't get sold) but really, I was hiding from the world and I didn't give a shit. About anything.
See, the problem with Agnosticism and Existentialism is it's very easy to make a lateral move to Nihilism. And that's what I had done for years without ever really noticing.
"I don't believe in anything higher than myself and you only have one life to live" can morph into "life is pointless, who gives a shit?" after you've had your life torn apart. Twice. And then spent the following years not allowing anyone to ever get close to you, again.
... so, fair wanring, this story doesn't have a happy "and then I met the true love of my life and cared about my career, again, and my heart grew 3 sizes that day and I became a real boy" ending.
No, the ending, pretty much, is the realization that I'd become a Nihilist. That I didn't give a shit about anything.
Now, I'm going to throw out words like "suicidal" and "depression" here but calm down. We're all adults.
I wasn't "suicidal", per se. You can tell because I'm still alive. But I did very much reach a place where I did not care if I lived or died. Because what's the point? You exist and one day you die and that's all you get, anyway, right?
"The soup is hot. The soup is cold."
I think I was Depressed. Honestly, I think I still might be.
But not, like, chemically. Life sucks. There's things worth being depressed about. That's just a natural reaction to shitty situations.
I don't do Meds and I find most people genuinely don't wanna hear about your problems. You have 3 sentences to say what it is you want before they start to glaze over because the conversation isn't about them.
There wasn't a lot to do about the problem outside of recognizing it and trying to live with it.
So... yeah... that.
Quick aside.
... now, I'm 40. My body produces much less testosterone than it used to and-- I'm not gonna lie-- I do wonder if that's an aspect to all this. Lacking a natural fuel source that makes you want to kill and win.
Mind you, I'm sure people in my life would say I'm easier to deal with and less prone to bouts of "Hulk Greg". I don't agree but I do digress...
Some questions have no real answers.
Where I landed was just trying to make it better by recognizing the issue. I try to muck about and join in. Try to find enjoyment in friends and drawing and working out again. Just find happiness/solitude in something, anything. Rage against the dying of the light and all that other nonsense.
(Covid made all this so much simpler, by the way...)
Hell, I just took a gig that'll take me to Norway for 2 months because it'll get me out of my comfort zone.
Do something. Because it's all you got.
And sometimes, I fall off the horse and wanna wallow in the mud instead of getting back on. So, the trick is to get yourself out of the mud as best you can, I suppose.... sorry... I wish this was a bit more uplifting.
... I mean, I did say I'm not suicidal, so that's gotta be a silver lining, right?
Epilogue 1
So, remember the first Ex-Girlfriend I mentioned above? Yeah, we didn't talk for 13 years. Then bumped into each other awkwardly at work.
We had dinner. This is like two years ago, now?
It was... sweet? I think that's the word.
She was married. Working in the Industry. Living her life. Nothing special. Just a person.
It was like living out a Harry Chapin song. Two world weary adults who knew each other when they were young.
I'm glad we got to have that feeling of closure.
We'd been broken up for years and there was no more ill will, there.
Epilogue 2
About a month or so back, same Ex-Girlfriend reached out. Wanted to be... friends?
(Y'know, I'm still not really sure what this was.)
It was odd. I've never watched a female have a mid-life crisis before.
She showed up to the restaurant in the best shape I've ever seen her in, wearing loud colors, her hair professionally done.
She'd left her husband. This girl who never worked out a day in her life now wakes up at 4AM to be in the gym. She talked non-stop about herself and her job and all the nice people she's meeting on Tinder.
I tried my best to be a pal. I congratulated her on her promotions and her new found sense of "gotta live for me". She called up a mutual friend --who I talk to daily and she hadn't spoken to in 15 years so, yeah, they're really close-- and made that friend promise that he'd force me to be her friend, now.
And then I never heard from her since.
If you can pull meaning out of that one, you're cleverer than me.
Real talk-- like two years ago, now, I moved to North Carolina pretty randomly for a year. It was a mixture of a lot of things. Largely not wanting to ever go back to LA (I'm back, now) and burning out entirely on a life/career dependent on putting up with my Ex-Girlfriend on a daily basis (she can be wonderful, at times, but she can also be an Ex-Girlfriend).
I didn't have a plan. I just thought I'd go somewhere else and find something else. Anything else.
I found the gym (got back into really good shape but out of shape, again, already) and a pretty solid 'drinking beers by myself' passtime. Started writing a lot, again, which is good. But, by and large, the entire North Carolina experience was nothing. I didn't try to build a new life or new career. I just hid in a house in the mountains by myself, drinking Yuengling and watching movies.
It got bad.
Like, "what the fuck is this?" bad.
I had to come to terms with a lot of things about myself and, mentally, where I was and where I allowed myself to get to.
Quick recap-- I had a pretty Norman Rockwell upbringing. Raised by very Christan parents from a small town who were high school sweethearts. My Dad was a career military man. So a lot of "yay Jesus and America."
Now, I still love me some America but Jesus and I don't talk much anymore. I mean, we wave at each other if we see one another in public. We're not dicks. We just know there's nothing between us.
By the time I was 19, I abandoned any sort of faith in a higher power and, after a few years of being fucked over by authority figures, pretty much lost faith in any sort of man made establishments as well.
By the time college ended, the appropriate descriptors were Agnostic and Existentialist. I didn't believe in anything higher than humanity but had no evidence there was no larger entity or purpose. But even if there was a God or some sort of reason behind the Universe, it didn't appear to actually interact with humans. All I knew is that I existed, I would one day die and believed/still believe that's all a person gets.
Now, that worldview is only as dark as you let it be.
I went off and had adventures.
Moved across the country, tried to make it work with a girl, got into the film and television industry. Had my first real heartbreak. Kept working, fell in love and tried to make it work with another girl. Traveled a lot more, worked a lot, started a company, made some great friends. Had my second devastating heartbreak. Kept working, grew that company, made some decent money.
Just kept my head down, doing the work and jumping to the next lilypad.
See, an interesting thing happened in that blur of gigs and plane rides-- I stopped allowing things to come in.
Fun fact-- I don't particularly like people. Like, most humans are awful. And, after a life of moving around every 2-3 years starting at birth and a career of freelancing and constantly starting over and meeting new faces, job-to-job, you get good at defenses and building an approachable, likable enough false persona.
I can count the people I've let see the real me on my two hands. Maybe even one.
And this isn't a pity party thing --just explaining the necessary details for context-- but I only ever loved two women. And I only ever let two women know the actual me. And both those women left me... that kinda thing sticks in your craw...
This next part feels necessary but I'll forgo a lot of the details because I'm a gentleman. When the second girlfriend dumped me --y'know, the one I'd just started a company for by investing my entire life savings into it-- I just kept trucking on. There was just too much fucking work to do to get introspective. And, honestly, if you knew her or knew us, it didn't feel like that big of a deal, at the time. I mean, it hurt but I honestly spent the next two years just assuming it was some dumb fight and that we were obviously going to get back together.
And then two years later, you lift your head up long enough to go "Jesus, it's been two years... I guess we are broken up."
And, at the time, I was a handsome enough guy who had a cool job and money in the bank and lived on the road. And I was kinda angry at the world. And I started taking advantage of that.
Again, I won't go into details but some things happened. To a degree that, one night, I had to ask myself "wait. Am I actually this guy?"
I didn't want to be. So I stopped.
That was years ago, now.
Essentially, having the only two women you've ever loved choosing 'not you' over 'you' can fuck you up pretty good. It will destroy your entire sense of self. You will build up your defences higher than ever before because you don't ever want to let anyone in, again. Because all it does is hurt and, apparently, you're not a good enough person to get to know deep down inside.
And the alternative-- emotionless relationships and being a scumbag-- leaves you feeling even worse.
Quick Sidenote-- first Ex-Girlfiend asked me a few years back why I'm not dating. My response was twofold--
1) Because I tried it twice and it went bad twice. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me."
2) When you only ever love two women and they both independently decide that you're not worth loving back, you do begin to villify and degrade any hypothetical woman who would actually love you in the future. What would have to be wrong with them? "I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member."
So, North Carolina...
I didn't have a plan. And, Spoilers, I don't really wind up with one at the end of this, either.
All I knew was every day was the same, I made no effort to make it better and I didn't care.
I mean, I was working out and writing and we had a Pitch deal for a TV series (which, Spoilers, doesn't get sold) but really, I was hiding from the world and I didn't give a shit. About anything.
See, the problem with Agnosticism and Existentialism is it's very easy to make a lateral move to Nihilism. And that's what I had done for years without ever really noticing.
"I don't believe in anything higher than myself and you only have one life to live" can morph into "life is pointless, who gives a shit?" after you've had your life torn apart. Twice. And then spent the following years not allowing anyone to ever get close to you, again.
... so, fair wanring, this story doesn't have a happy "and then I met the true love of my life and cared about my career, again, and my heart grew 3 sizes that day and I became a real boy" ending.
No, the ending, pretty much, is the realization that I'd become a Nihilist. That I didn't give a shit about anything.
Now, I'm going to throw out words like "suicidal" and "depression" here but calm down. We're all adults.
I wasn't "suicidal", per se. You can tell because I'm still alive. But I did very much reach a place where I did not care if I lived or died. Because what's the point? You exist and one day you die and that's all you get, anyway, right?
"The soup is hot. The soup is cold."
I think I was Depressed. Honestly, I think I still might be.
But not, like, chemically. Life sucks. There's things worth being depressed about. That's just a natural reaction to shitty situations.
I don't do Meds and I find most people genuinely don't wanna hear about your problems. You have 3 sentences to say what it is you want before they start to glaze over because the conversation isn't about them.
There wasn't a lot to do about the problem outside of recognizing it and trying to live with it.
So... yeah... that.
Quick aside.
... now, I'm 40. My body produces much less testosterone than it used to and-- I'm not gonna lie-- I do wonder if that's an aspect to all this. Lacking a natural fuel source that makes you want to kill and win.
Mind you, I'm sure people in my life would say I'm easier to deal with and less prone to bouts of "Hulk Greg". I don't agree but I do digress...
Some questions have no real answers.
Where I landed was just trying to make it better by recognizing the issue. I try to muck about and join in. Try to find enjoyment in friends and drawing and working out again. Just find happiness/solitude in something, anything. Rage against the dying of the light and all that other nonsense.
(Covid made all this so much simpler, by the way...)
Hell, I just took a gig that'll take me to Norway for 2 months because it'll get me out of my comfort zone.
Do something. Because it's all you got.
And sometimes, I fall off the horse and wanna wallow in the mud instead of getting back on. So, the trick is to get yourself out of the mud as best you can, I suppose.... sorry... I wish this was a bit more uplifting.
... I mean, I did say I'm not suicidal, so that's gotta be a silver lining, right?
Epilogue 1
So, remember the first Ex-Girlfriend I mentioned above? Yeah, we didn't talk for 13 years. Then bumped into each other awkwardly at work.
We had dinner. This is like two years ago, now?
It was... sweet? I think that's the word.
She was married. Working in the Industry. Living her life. Nothing special. Just a person.
It was like living out a Harry Chapin song. Two world weary adults who knew each other when they were young.
I'm glad we got to have that feeling of closure.
We'd been broken up for years and there was no more ill will, there.
Epilogue 2
About a month or so back, same Ex-Girlfriend reached out. Wanted to be... friends?
(Y'know, I'm still not really sure what this was.)
It was odd. I've never watched a female have a mid-life crisis before.
She showed up to the restaurant in the best shape I've ever seen her in, wearing loud colors, her hair professionally done.
She'd left her husband. This girl who never worked out a day in her life now wakes up at 4AM to be in the gym. She talked non-stop about herself and her job and all the nice people she's meeting on Tinder.
I tried my best to be a pal. I congratulated her on her promotions and her new found sense of "gotta live for me". She called up a mutual friend --who I talk to daily and she hadn't spoken to in 15 years so, yeah, they're really close-- and made that friend promise that he'd force me to be her friend, now.
And then I never heard from her since.
If you can pull meaning out of that one, you're cleverer than me.