Amazing Journey

Exactly one hundred twenty-six days ago, I silently made a decision. A promise to myself. In six more days, I will see that promise fulfilled.
Getting to this point required a large amount of hard work, dedication, and focus. Being that I am an inherently lazy individual, my definition of "hard work" is likely a little lax compared to others', but it felt like moving mountains.
This isn't something I came to overnight. It was an ongoing process, still is, something I take with a large grain of salt and no small amount of trepidation and fear. But, in the last five months, I think I've learned to conquer fear. Or at least quell it to such a minute sliver that I can effectively pretend it does not exist.
Not that I claim to have some sort of special knowledge or secret key to fulfillment; the only thing I know is that there are many things I do not know. I like to believe wisdom lies in knowing one's limitations, and I weigh these on a daily basis. The human condition, and striving to understand it, is a many fractured, contradictory science of ifs and buts. If I pretend I am unafraid, fear ceases to exist compounded with ignoring something does not make it go away, for instance.
In choosing to set my sights on reestablishing a life in Indiana, I hold no malice toward the life I built here, the people I met and knew, the accomplishments I made, and the immense help I received in doing so. You could go so far to say that nothing I have yet built for myself has been made independently, that to pat myself on the back for doing anything is selfish and ungrateful. Part of choosing to forge ahead in a new (yet old) place is in pursuit of true independence: living in a castle you built from scratch, with no help whatsoever.
I do not hold any illusion that I am there yet, or even that I am ready. For all of my hard work and dedication I poured into these last years, those efforts are nothing compared to the monumental task that lies before me. But what I am ready for, and I hold true for myself, is that accomplishing these goals is my number one priority.
When this year began, I had high hopes and dreams. Most of these were shattered completely (one of the reasons I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions; life changes too quickly and without notice to make those big-picture plans for yourself), but I did choose to climb out of the rubble and emerge a new man. I think I've done a well enough job. If you do not immediately recognize me, do not be afraid. Sometimes I do not even recognize myself. But I learned that it is a natural evolution, a fulfillment of early promise, a promise in itself of things to come.
I learned that wallowing in self-pity and misery is no way to live, but is in fact a great way to die (as I nearly discovered), so now I choose how to think. This may sound trivial, cliche, or void of any great philosophical truth, but I learned it is a great secret, one worth uncovering. Learning and choosing how to think. I learned that one of the greatest obstacles our generation faces is falling into a default mode of solipsism and self-centeredness, albeit in a different form than most people think of when they hear the word "selfish." I learned that my default mode of thinking is usually to assume that I am a victim, an unfairly treated and shit-upon individual whose struggles are so much more vast compared to others that I should be a martyr. I learned that feeling and thinking that the entire world is out to get me, that every other lifeform on earth's sole purpose was to fight and degrade me, is just as bad as solipsism, and a very sinister form of selfishness. I learned that in order to be who I want to be, I have to realize and accept the fact that I am but one man in a large sea of people, no bigger or more important than anyone else. Humbling yourself like this, I learned, is also extremely difficult, and does not happen overnight.
My transformation thus far has been multifaceted. I shed the shackles of the past, the memories and experiences that I feared had broken me as a human being and permanently labeled me "damaged goods." I accepted my mistakes, and purged many of the demons that had led me to this solipsistic attitude. I lost weight. I fought to change my physical appearance to reflect the changes within. I made straight A's in school for the first time in the history of my secondary and post-secondary education. I discovered renewed purpose through a talent I had previously assumed was worthless. I made it my mission to sharpen it. I made peace with a man I blamed for all my problems. I sought to learn how to strengthen the bonds between me and those I call friends. I strove to embrace change and accept it.
Change is a funny thing, though. I understand that it is the only thing you can rely on in life's journey. But I have also come to believe that part of this quest is to reject certain notions of change. We fight and struggle against the chaos of our journey to hold onto some things, to make sense of the storm and resolve some sense of order to our lives; to find some constant, some platform and base to rest on when we are weary, to collapse on when we are defeated, to get back up from when we are motivated, to celebrate on or cry in. I cannot tell if this is foolish or noble. But I believe that those of us that achieve it attain a certain level of happiness and fulfillment that others lack. I will go with the flow, and ride this wave, come what may, but along the way I will make sacrifices to hold onto the people I love. This is my test. This is my spirituality.
Just wait and see.