Today, I did alot of wondering. Mental wandering. I wandered as I wondered. And it got deep.

I started questioning when exactly did I lose myself? I felt in control of my life right up until I decided to move us in with my mother for a “recharge”. Was supposed to be for 1 to 2 years but it only turned out to be 6 months as I met Krista that fall, proposed then married her early January. And then I really lost myself.

It was the spring of 2014, after living in my hometown of Fort Saskatchewan for 4 years over a girl, who crushed my very soul but this isn’t about her, or that. Minus soon becoming careerless, everything else was running perfectly, dare I venture to say, in my life. I had lost 50 lbs and gained back 25 lbs of mostly muscle. I was in the gym 6 days a week and looked and felt amazing. My children were happy and overall healthy, for their degree of health any way. I drank a few times a week and struggled a bit with even that but it wasn’t anything to fear. I had friends whom I’d hang with regularly. We had a great church that I volunteered at in the childrens program and with security. I had a bunch of 3 month relationships with girls, which, for me, was a successful thing. At that point, I always had money coming in but just wasn’t the smartest with it. No direction, no savings. But overall, at least in hindsight to where I am at today, life was good.

So.. how does one go from there to how my life is today? Careerwise, I basically have none. Besides a big chunk of last year, I hold a day job just fine but I’m unhappy so I job jump. Physically, by my own hand, I’m a disgusting specimen of what I once was. I have 60 extra lbs of fat on me, mostly on my gut and my face. I’m run down and tired because of my old way of life of drinking and smoking and now my health is horrible wrapped up in this seemingly terminal title called “extreme sleep apnea”. I have no friends. I rarely go to church, let alone volunteer. I sin more than ever in the quiet ways. I don’t reach out to God near as much like I used to. My creativity feels choked. I barely pick up my instruments let alone start the band I’ve been craving. I’ve become so used to eating whatever I want whenever I want it. Fast food daily, junk around the house constantly. I’ve accumulated debt which I was normally always free of. My daughters health issues consume what little there is left of me. Every choice I make feels like the wrong one or a bad one. Occasionally, like today, I’ll think hmm McDonald’s sounds good then I’ll stop myself and eat healthy at home.

And that was I think the mindblow I experienced today. The hole I’ve dug is so very deep that its going to take good decision after good decision after good decision in hopeful succession to ever get out of here. And I have to get out.

I’m an island. I can’t do it all on my own though I somehow do. I desperately want to feel good and look good. To be able to look at myself in the mirror and to see both the good man inside as well as the one who’s flesh I inhabit. And I’ve procrastinated before but its never been mapped out to me before like it is now.

The only question is how do I do this, like seriously? My pastor invited me to their mens small group tonight and I woke up wanting to go but then the fear of feeling inadequate and needing to heal and grow more before I commit to that seemed right, though I was most likely just listening to the so familiar voice of the enemy wanting to hold me down.

I honestly need to wade into these healing waters but I can’t do everything good and right and perfect all at once. I need to take small bites and little steps, and at times the larger ones will be easy.

I know my destination but the road there seems so long and so narrow. But I cannot continue to exist like I am now, I can’t. Each step I have to push myself. It is the only way.

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