2014 sucked. I mean it really sucked for me and for my family. Three months into being separated from my wife of 18 years has been a traumatic, life-changing event. After separating, I have gone from burying myself deep in a rabbit hole, digging my way to the surface, and finding that the sun is still shining and the air is crisp and clean. After resurfacing and having some time look back at my tendencies for the past 10 years, it is alarming how out of touch I was with the things that made me happy. I was in a deep ditch, unable to see anything outside of it. I was out of touch with me. The ditch was something that I dug and I’m pretty sure I wasn’t cognizant that the shovel was at work. At first it started shallow, but as the years progressed its depth increased for reasons both in and out of my control. The bottom of the ditch was my reality. It was safe and cozy, but it was also a lonely dark place. I put myself there. It was my fault and no one else’s.
The past ten years have been tough and it’s understandable how and why I dug myself this trench. After finishing Optometry school in 2002, and having our son that same year, we moved to Charleston, where I worked for another doctor for about 2 years. Understanding that I am not the employee-type, I started working at Costco as an independent Optometrist in 2004 and subsequently started my private practice in ‘05. For two years I held a six-day per week schedule at both offices to make ends meet. I was really tired. I was scared of failing my wife and my child. So I dug in a bit more. My private office was struggling because of a poor location due to unfinished road issues, so in late 2007 I moved the office to James Island. It was like starting over, so I dug in. Then came the pseudo-depression of ‘08/’09, and life seemed damn-near unbearable. But I dug in deeper, afraid of failure and scared to let my people down.
‘08/’09 is also when all of this took its toll on my marriage. I won’t tell you what happened, but I will tell you it had a massive impact on me. The rug was pulled from under my feet and I was in a free fall. I almost lost it all. Instead of being afraid to let my family down, I was now terrified of having a failed marriage and a son in a split-home arrangement. During that tumultuous period, my goal was to protect him by being the stable one at home. I read self help books and went to counseling, blaming myself and trying to figure out what in the hell was wrong with me. It was like I was the fourth leg on a three legged chair. The chair was my family and I was trying to keep the chair upright with one arm, and run my businesses with the other. The ditch only grew deeper with each year as I tried my best to keep my home and family in tact.
The marital issues proved to be too much to handle in 2014, and so the decision was made to separate. After being out of my marriage and finding some breathing room, I have had time to think about the past ten years and have come up with some ideas and conclusions, although I doubt three months is enough to digest it all. My hope is help you listen to and acknowledge the alarm that may be going on inside your head. That uneasy feeling that pops up for a millisecond and makes you think “Damn. Where did that one come from?” These feelings typically come from your gut and are usually on the money. But they get overruled by the pursuit of what is at the end of your rainbow. For some the pursuit may be dreams of white picket fences with a family dressed in white playing in the front yard, and for others it may be traveling around the world for a year. Ultimately, the pursuit of a dream can dominate how we think and will eventually impact the decisions we make, leading to a loss of self.
My main conclusion is that it is very easy to slip into a unidirectional focus, especially if the ultimate goal or dream is driven by positive intentions. No one can argue that it’s a bad idea to go for white picket fences. But if that vision dominates and becomes your sole purpose, it is likely that you will start digging your own ditch. Some of the signs of this can be subtle. You may find that your hobbies and friends are dwindling. Doing the things you’ve grown to love are usually the first thing to go, and with it the friends you had that shared the same passion. These things don’t stop all at once. They slowly leave the party one by one, until you are the only one in the room. So if you hear the little voice in your head saying that something is wrong, listen to it. It’s telling you something important.
So how does F3 help? First of all, most men have used physical exertion, in one form or another, as a hobby. F3 workouts allow you to restart this hobby with men who are in a common place. Camaraderie develops amongst your PAX and the case of the disappearing friends is no longer such a significant issue.
Ultimately you have to push yourself mentally and do things that are no longer in your comfort zone. Being in that ditch can be cozy. Lonely, but cozy. Becoming involved in CSAUP’s, F2 socials, and F3’s can be uncomfortable because either you have never done something like it and/or breaking away from the solemness of the ditch brings it own set of unknowns. Making yourself uncomfortable will create opportunities of personal growth, and we’re never too old for that.
Also, use F3 as a jump start to rekindle some of the passions you had when you were younger. For example, I just started playing my guitar again, which is something I truly love but haven’t touched in probably eight years! I also purchased one for my son with hope that he will like it, and we can share this hobby together.
So identify what your white picket fence is and review what you have become over the past 5 to 10 years. Do you like where you are today? Are you in a ditch, and if so, how deep is it?
To get myself uncomfortable I’ve gotten myself signed up for the Palmetto 200 and attended my first F3 this morning after the Horse Lot Hustle. In the meantime, I’m going to grab my guitar and play for a while. Time to start filling the ditches.