Recently it was Camp Day at Tim Hortons, a yearly event where proceeds from the coffee chain's sales go towards kids camps. This year on their iced coffee cups promoting the occasion, they printed various words that apparently were themes o' the year. One of the words displayed was simply "Confidence."
What is confidence? For our purposes here, the following definition found via Google is as follows:
"a feeling of self-assurance arising from one's appreciation of one's own abilities or qualities." i.e. "she's brimming with confidence"
One of the qualities of many of my past blog entries is the blunt honesty of them. Too honest sometimes perhaps, but there they are in all their glory. But I've become timid these last several years. The idealistic boldness that was once present has diminished to a flickering, fading light, all but extinguished.
But here goes...buckle up.
My confidence level has gone down the toilet it seems. It's happened both slowly and gradually as well as precipitously these last few years. This blog goes back many years - read at your own leisure/peril - and you'll find as mentioned before, idealistic posts about never giving up on your dreams or the Divine Presence that lives within us all. Posts about never giving up.
But somewhere along the line...I've sort of given up almost. I think this happens with many of us as we start getting older. Harsh realities of life creep up and we seem to have less strength to overcome them.
There was a time when I would write at length about my mental health challenges: C-PTSD, depression, anxiety...I rarely do that anymore, but they still wreak their ugly heads on a daily basis, whittling down my confidence level. Now, instead of dreaming big (or much at all), I am faced with the stark reality of what I do not possess: a relationship, a career, a vehicle, a million and a half dollars, etc. At some point you start realizing that you have less time in front of you than has past, and self-improvement seems to get that much harder.
I used to spend time in political party and church circles. At one point I launched a mental health awareness campaign and went around interviewing people including local politicians and clergy, in order to attempt to lessen the stigma/shame of living with mental illnesses. I used to sing regularly. Where did that guy go?
These days my schedule consists of sleeping in, frequenting local café's, and watching baseball. Nothing inherently wrong with these things, but at some point I've become so comfortable - and comfortable being alone - that it's worn me down.
Another thing I've noticed is that I'm largely drifting through life these last few years. I think this is probably another feeling that many with C-PTSD feel. And if you're wondering, yes I've been on a regimen of medication for it. Those too can be a blessing and a curse. They shield me from feeling the lowest depths of depression and absolute heights of anxiety, but they f*cking numb me out to all hell as well.
I suppose everyone loses some of their idealism/dreams as they age, but does this have to be so? I am thankful that there is still that Inner Voice that beckons me to greater things/to press forward, but I've found that part of me withers and almost dies each time I disregard it. Mister Rogers has a great song that he wrote for kids called "You've Got To Do It" (look it up on Spotify or YouTube) that basically says we can wish things to come to pass but they won't unless we actually take leaps of faith and do them.
Perhaps in writing this tonight I am taking such a leap. Do I have it in me? Do you have it in you to try again? I like to periodically write that while there's life, there's still a chance to make changes/improvements. Maybe tomorriw is a new day afterall.
Thanks a bunch for reading. And if you happen to be in my small but mighty circle of close friends, know that I am so grateful for your presence.
mark-andrew
