Three years ago, I decided to quit a job that I had been doing for over a decade. As far as a job goes, it was all I knew. I never went to college, never got a trade, never received a degree. I joined the workforce straight out of high school. In the beginning, I loved it. It was hard work. Every day was a physical challenge of hiking kilometers of mountainsides, rugged scenery, animal encounters, helicopter rides. As years passed, I gained more knowledge, more experience. And, as it usually happens, with knowledge and experience came more income. I had a leadership role, relative freedom, a girlfriend, and a cat to come home to, and more than enough money for someone who lives a fairly simplified life. Even as I write this, what I had sounds appealing. One problem. I was miserable. I was depressed. My will to live was fading and I was too deep in a state of anger and spite towards the world to see my own reflection.
I had everything that I was preconditioned to believe constituted a “happy” life. Yet, there I was, laying in bed each morning, praying that my alarm clock was a mirage and that time had frozen so I delay my misery for a few moments longer. Like a thousand-pound sandbag, I refused to move. In my brain, endless excuses to not remove my blankets and to call in sick. Persuaded only by guilt, I put my boots on, grabbed my lunch, and mindlessly coasted through another day. Why? Because I was too sheltered, too comfortable, and too afraid to test the world. I hiked mountainsides for money. But when it came to self-development, I briskly walked the well-worn path of least resistance. I tried harder to build useless external accolades, attributes and accomplishments, rather than refining a life that actually meant something to me. My reward; self-imposed depression and anxiety.
At first glance, depression and anxiety hardly resemble a trophy fit to be hoisted above one’s head. That’s like the child equivalent of getting socks for your birthday or raisins on Halloween. And that’s kind of what it was like in the beginning. There’s nothing positive about depression when you’re right in the middle of it. My daily battle was a decision between fighting a little harder or hoping for the warped courage to end my life. But, after 5 plus years and a whole lot of bullshit, I’m starting to see my mental illnesses in a new light. As the smoke begins to clear, I see life’s challenges less as something to fearfully run from, and more as a desirable fight, rewarding pain, and a greater opportunity to leave my old self behind. My depression and anxiety have humbled me. They taught me what was important, and what I need to do to create a life meant for me.
Photo by Benjamin Lizardo on Unsplash
When I quit my job three years ago, I reignited a faded aspiration of becoming a Wildland Firefighter. I put in three years of hard work, training, workouts, self-doubt, and endless failures to get where I’m at now. Less money, more days away from home, more physically demanding, more unpredictable, more dangerous. Sounds counterproductive, right? I made this decision after way too much second-guessing. Everyday, I’d question my actions and wonder if I should just jump back onto that easy path. I bathed in self-doubt, anxiety and fear. I wanted to quit over and over. Now, I’m here.
Each day, I go to work earlier than I need to be. I look forward to learning and growing. I smile through the pain of daily workouts and training exercises. I’m engaged, helpful, happy, and I push my mental and physical limitations and prove myself wrong at every turn. I relish at the thought that even if my pockets are empty when this is over, I’ll be wealthier that I could ever imagine if I had stayed with the old life that slowly dragged me towards a premature expiration.
We’re all born with an inherent strength, a resiliency that allows us to overcome our personal challenges. Sometimes, that resiliency is difficult to recognize. Quite often, it’s buried beneath mistakes, regrets, doubts and weaknesses that we view as permanent and indelible.
In so many ways, I’m not who I thought I was. Anxiety and depression had me convinced that I was weak and useless. For over five years I was forced to believe that I was insignificant and worthless, that I’d never amount to anything, and that I’d drag on for a little while longer until my soul was drained from my body and I was no longer needed in this physical realm. Day after day, I would ask myself if there was a point to being alive. What I had couldn’t be defined as a life. It was a sentence. A self-imposed punishment for a life of neglect and denial. My life didn’t serve a purpose for me. So, I’m changing it.
When you find yourself walking the path of least resistance, ask yourself where you’re going and why you’re there. You might realize that it’s leading you to a place you’re not meant to be. Then, step off, get lost in your darkness for awhile. And eventually, step by step, your feet will take you where you need to go.
