Skip to main content

The Pieces of Me


If I am being completely and nakedly honest, I have not consistently felt happy and like me for years... the last time I really felt okay (I think) was when I was in NYC.

I have written, I have tried, I have worked, I have let people down, I have cried, I have condemned, I have searched and searched and searched.

Something broke me last week. It filled with me the aching hopelessness that is a vacuum to the spirit, is toxic, and devastating.

I will not go into those stories for they are far too numerous to recount and I have only begun to really process and see what needs to happen next to get me healthy and happy.

For years now I have felt guilty for feeling lost, depressed, adrift, fearful... I mean there are wonderful things I have happening in my life, great friends, talents abundant, just so much good. Yet often I feel detached from that. Certainly not all the time, but sometimes to often is a fair estimation.

I can see patterns from this blog (so helpful it has been) of being sad and then coming back with a fervor of changing myself yet still ending up in the same place.

Like a vicious and unending circle.

So I am not going to write that I am okay and that I am joyous and have a concrete plan of action.

What I will write is that for the first time I am really looking at myself and seeking help. I need an objective second party to help me mend the brokenness of me.

And in the past few days I have made strides in directions that I know to be right. Once again, I have made a career change, but this time I am sure that it is something that is me, something that is true.

That helps.

And just seeing the broken pieces of me, like a shattered stained glass window and saying, "Well I thought I was going to be this picture with the pieces like this, but now I see that is not going to happen" lifts the burden a bit.

And that is okay.

But I am picking up the pieces for the first time and starting to look at who I can be, looking for help, being honest, setting realistic goals, looking at my past and how it colours me, but not letting it suffocate me.

Will I still over-analyze, obsess, take steps back? Yes, of course. And that is okay too. But I have really decided I want to walk a new path, I want to rebuild the window of me.

So since I have decided that, those pieces have started to look less like broken pieces and more like pieces of me, the pieces of a future and of opportunity, and of real hope.

I felt lead to share this.

Always,
Dustin

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Kick Ass Brothers (And the Theatre Room I Am Going to Steal)

I just spent the day with my brothers, Bran Flakes and Patricio watching "Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood", "Sin City", and "Live Free or Die Hard" in Bran Flake's KICK ASS KICK ASS KICK ASS Theatre Room. (It deserves all three kick asses and then some actually.) It was a Testosterone Day and I made it all the way through. Can we say the same for Patricio? (Titty baby. Ha.) I think that was the first blog smack talk I have "thrown down". I had never seen "Sin City" or "Live Free or Die Hard". Both were excellent. I did not want to leave the nirvana that is the magic room of cinema wonder. So, thanks to Bran Flakes for hosting and for having the idea. And Patrick, let me know how that nipple is treating you. Here's to smack talk... How liberating! (Especially when I am in control of the forum!) Here's to a kick ass theatre room. And to even more kick ass brothers, Dustin
1 comment
Read more

Call to Action

This past Saturday I, with thousands of others across the country, attended a protest/rally of Proposition 8 and Act I (the adoption ban in Arkansas). My dear allies in this battle were Jay, Karen, their joyous son Quin, our mutual friend Greg, Amanda, Carter, Sarah Jane, Liz, and the brave Arkansans that showed up for the rally on the steps of our Capitol. It was bitterly cold and grey, but within I was ignited with passion and newfound purpose. As I listened to the stories of my fellow brothers and sisters, gay, straight, bisexual, transgendered, I was struck by the power of the many speaking as one. Then I began to visit my own story and was struck at how far I have come... to think back fourteen years ago when I had my brother tell my parents that I happened to be gay because I was so frightened as to what they would think, say, how they could ever love me, this abomination.... To now, a man standing with his friends and proclaiming "This is our right, What you have done is ...
3 comments
Read more

In the Colouring of How I Present the Gifts

The death of my Father has coloured the choices I make, the way I live, and the values I hold dear. Sometimes, I am surprised the extent to which it has affected me. I equate it to a new room on the house: this room of grief. For several months both my Mother and I lived in only that room and throughout this process we have ventured back into the rest of the home and, finally, back in to the world. But, from time to time we visit the room again and take a nap, meditate, knowing that room is forever a part of us. I believe that when one experiences a deep shifting to one end of the emotional spectrum, both sides actually strengthen and grow. For quite sometime although there have been some thrilling and touching moments, I think my heart was used to dwelling in the darker end. But.... In the past few days I have had the privilege of performing in a capable production of Sweeney Todd . I portray Anthony, a love-struck sailor. It has been three years since I have performed in a mus...
4 comments
Read more