On Loss and Change - Musings #1

Aloha, my friends! Neoplasmic here. So I want to level with you all. When I first started this site, along with my right hand guys Mike and Josh (the Captain and the Director, respectively), I wanted it to be a more positive experience for those who read it and listen to the podcasts. That’s why we’re Renegades: we don’t want to rely on negative coverage and toxic “attitude.” There’s too much of that on the internet. Then, when we had the Animation Guru (Cameron) and the Streamin’ Demon (Jacob) join us, we started to discuss mental health, and how we could broach that topic on the site. This led to the creation of the Mental Health Checkup show, as well as Josh’s article about the COVID pandemic, and I honestly couldn’t be happier with how that turned out. It added another dimension to our site and the type of content we produce.

All that said, I figured I’d try something new with this post. I want to be more open with you, dear reader, and I want to bare my soul a bit here, warts and all. A few years ago, I went through something that affected me on a very deep, profound level. An experience that changed me on a fundamental level, and the thing that brought about that shift in perspective was a sense of loss pertaining to a relationship that ended. To add a bit of context before i get to the juicy stuff (if you could even call it that), I have always been someone who’s struggled with self-esteem and self-care. I look out for my family and friends, and I adore them and would take a bullet for them, but when it comes to myself… well, there are days where I wish God would snuff out my life as I sleep. That I would just fall into unconsciousness and never wake up. I’m not actively suicidal, but I have those dark thoughts sometimes. I can’t tell you how often I’ve thought it would be easier to just give up on everything, including this website, and just accept the “fact” that I’ll never be good enough, or that I’m a fraud and people will discover that in time.

Please bear with me as I know this isn’t what people may want to see when they come to a pop culture site, but my instinct is to shield myself behind a protective emotional wall, even on our podcasts, and that’s not what I want to do here. Rather, I want you to know what you all mean to me, and what this site and my co-hosts and friends mean to me, as well. So, let’s continue.

To me, depression hits in waves. It oscillates, instead of just hitting me over the head and sticking with me over extended periods of time. I mean, sometimes it does, but it usually washes over after a while. It’s something I’ve dealt with since childhood. I was always (and continue to be) overweight, which is something that affects my self-worth. I was bullied for that in elementary school, because I wouldn’t fight back if the other kids were mean to me. I’d just take it, and worse than that, I’d internalize it. That kind of teasing can be extremely damaging, especially to kids like me, who abhor confrontation and are more introverted and quiet.

However, as time goes on, and those moments become memories, you discover that life isn’t so bad, and with maturity you learn to accept who you are (at least, for the most part). As this great video from Vsauce (embedded below) puts it, you are a “guest star” or a minor appearance in most people’s lives. For instance, when I worked at Blockbuster, I was the guy at the cash register, or the person they asked for a quick movie recommendation. At Starbucks, I was the barista who made their latte or Frappuccino. We interacted for a few seconds, and that was it. Fleeting moments like these are all that most of us will ever see of each other. We’re blips on the radar of life.

So, a few years ago, I met a person who made me realize that I had just been sleepwalking through most of my life. I wasn’t experiencing things or living my life to its fullest. There were many reasons for this, including my religious upbringing, but the main point is that it was my responsibility to recognize and change this habit of mine, but I was also unaware of what I was doing. Or not doing, more accurately.

Then I met her, and it was a lightbulb moment. An epiphany, if I may be slightly pretentious about it. Suddenly I realized that everything I thought I knew about my life was called into question, and much of it felt meaningless and empty. Like I was lacking something, and perhaps it was so obvious, yet so difficult to grasp.

I believed it was love, or a lasting relationship. A desire to be part of something greater than myself, and a desperate attempt to not be so goddamn alone. For a while, it was really good. I basked in that person’s presence, in the magnificent brightness of their existence. It was such a beautiful experience, and unlike anything I had ever felt in my life before. But it was also inherently flawed, because I was looking for meaning and purpose through another person’s life. I was trying to find self-worth through the perspective of another, and I wasn’t actually trying to improve my situation; rather, I was attempting to escape it.

Look, there ain’t nothing wrong with an escape from time to time, as long as it’s a healthy one. I mean, that’s our motto, after all. But when you’re trying to escape from taking responsibility for your own life instead of trying to find ways to improve it, well… Ya done screwed the pooch. It took me a long time to learn that idealizing and idolizing other people was not the path to true happiness or fulfillment. And I had to glean that knowledge through the emotional emptiness I felt when that person moved on with her life. Afterward, I felt so adrift and alone. I felt a profound sense of loss, like I didn’t even know who I was anymore. There was a deep feeling of religious guilt, too, like I was being punished for sinning, or for not doing what I was “supposed” to do. And we know how dangerous it is when we have a case of the “s’posed to’s,” as the Simpsons once said.

As Hawkeye once asked Black Widow, “Do you know what it’s like to be un-made?” I do, and I’ll bet most of you do at some point. Many of us come into our lives with belief systems which are taught to us at a very young age by our parents, our friends, or even society itself. Ethics, morals, religious beliefs, even the idea of what beauty and attractiveness is are all things which are passed on to us, generally speaking. As life goes on, we’re supposed to figure it all out on our own, but I know that’s easier said than done. I learned it later than most, to be perfectly honest.

I guess the big, grandiose point I’m trying to make with this rambling piece is this: Loss and grief changes us. Whether it’s the death of a close family member, the end of a relationship, or the failure of a belief system, that feeling of loss and confusion often brings us to our lowest point. And that, to paraphrase Avatar Aang, is when we are most open to change.

I once read an article about neuroplasticity and how the brain is constantly shifting and changing itself after it goes through traumatic experiences, and it reminded me of how we literally have to rebuild our entire sense of self after we deal with loss, grief, and trauma. Now, I’m not saying that what I went through is equivalent to what soldiers who experience war and death up close have had to deal with, but loss comes in various forms. It forces us to re-examine who we are on a fundamental level, and often it’s a sign that we must re-evaluate our identity from the ground up. It’s a slow and painful process, and it may lead to us taking drastic steps to redefine who we are, but ultimately, the greatest and most positive result of dealing with loss and trauma is that we discover that we can change. Personally speaking, I can’t go back to who I was before I met her, and I wouldn’t want to. To do so would surely be a sign of stagnation and a step backwards, and I prefer to move forward.

Ultimately, I believe we all want to love and be loved, to not be so alone, and to give ourselves freely to others. Well, most of us do, anyway. It often takes drastic measures to make us recognize what we truly want in life. After all, “People need dramatic examples to shake them out of apathy,” to quote one of my fictional heroes, and sometimes that can be painful…

But in the end, I believe it’s always worth it.

---

If you or anyone you know is suffering from a profound sense of loss and grief and need to talk about it, please contact the Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration’s help line at 1-800-662-4357. Or visit this link for more information.

Also, if you or someone you know is experiencing suicidal thoughts or attempting to harm themselves, please visit the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline’s website, or call or text 988. You are never alone. We love you.

---

Alright, friends, thank you so much for getting this far, and I’m very sorry for writing a novella with this post. I hope that this will be the first in our Musings series, and I’d love to read any feedback you may have in the comments below. Thanks for reading, everyone! Be safe, and we’ll see you next time.

---