I feel like I've been reading a lot about myself lately. I was in the newspaper the other day. I got to read an interview that was all about me. It was an interesting feeling. Doing the interview was an experience in and of itself. Having a bona fide journalist ask me questions about stuff that mattered to me, now that was interesting. Having someone know so much about me before we ever met was kinda weird. But it was nice too. I spend a lot of time feeling like no understands me. No one gets it. But this lady seemed to get it. She didn't ask about nonsense. She asked about the good stuff. That stuff that matters to me. I felt like I was being interviewed for Playboy or Rolling Stone, minus the riches and fame that generally go along with being asked to do one of those interviews.
After I read my article, I went and read my book. I had just gotten it back from the editor, so it needed my attention anyway. It was the first time I'd read it cover to cover. I wrote it and purposely stepped away from it for a minute. I think it helps with the editing process to be able to read it with fresh eyes. So I read my book for the first time yesterday. Reading the newspaper article and the book, and getting all the encouragement I've been getting lately, has brought me to an interesting place. I've become supremely aware of the depths from which I've come. I've struggled. I've seen pain almost beyond imagination. I have impacted lives. I know this, because it was purposeful. I have attempted to make my life mean something, and I think I've succeeded in that. Still, all this attention that has been paid to me and the life I've lived has almost made it harder to do what I've been doing all this time.
Because of the choices and sacrifices I've made in my life, I find myself once again struggling. Its nothing new to me. I've struggled before. But I always felt like I had blinders on before. I was struggling because I had no choice. I put my head down and kept pushing. But then, somewhere along the way, someone said, "Hey. Look how hard that guy is working. Look what he's done." I appreciate the acknowledgment. I really do. But it really does bring into focus what I've been through. Its kinda like a little kid with a cut. He doesn't cry until you show him the blood. Well, I'm starting to see the blood.
I was sitting with my friend last night, complaining about my current struggles. I don't do it often. I'm a relatively positive person. But, now and then, life gets heavy. In those moments, I start to wonder when this struggle will get easier. When will I get to not be poor? When will my ex stop torturing me? When will my kids truly understand what I'm trying to do for them? Every time I ask those questions, aloud or in my head, someone says, "This will all be worth it one day." I already know its true. Sometimes its me that says it. But today, when I'm as tired as I can ever imagine being, I only have one question. When will "one day" actually be today?