From Washington To Seattle And Beyond

Over the last few months, as many people know, my life has been quite a journey. I moved from Washington, Missouri to Seattle, Washington (with a short stop in San Francisco, hey Stephen!) on a whim. My life had changed in a very negative way, and I couldn't stand it. So I did what any logical person would do and I ran away.

I wanted to take a horrible situation and twist it into an opportunity, possibly creating something that could have a positive effect on my life. And I truly believed that moving would have the desired effect.

If I'm being honest, though, I'm not entirely sure what I expected to happen when I moved to Seattle. Did I expect the rain to wash away all my pain? Did I expect the solitude to cure my heartache? Did I expect becoming a Seattlite would magically publish my book, making me a millionaire overnight? I'm not sure. I probably thought, being a writer, that it would be romantic living and writing in Seattle. But, much like my life at the time, my decisions didn't make a lot of sense. My life had become a blur, and I was stuck moving forward in a backward direction with it.


From September 18th - January 22nd, I was living a nightmare. In my mind I knew that I was alive and that my experiences were real and that my choices were my own, but it didn't feel that way. I felt like a zombie, or what I imagine a zombie would feel like.

At first, I tried to drink away the dream, making myself fall into a dark void that might have been sleep, but that only made the waking nightmare all the more real. Then, I tried to run away from the cloud that clung to my mind, sometimes running upwards of 12 miles at a time, but I couldn't seem to run fast enough to escape what was chasing me. Lastly, I tried to write away the dream, creating other worlds to store everything I couldn't cope with, but those worlds transformed into reality and made what I thought was real life seem trivial. I would wake in the morning and not know if I was waking from a dream or falling deeper into one, and I would fall asleep at night only to open my eyes to a world so like my own that it had to be real also.

Months passed me by. I continued to go through the motions and continued to tell myself that everything would be alright, but insanity was never far behind me. He nipped at my heals, inhabited my dreams, and threatened to expose everything that I was trying so hard to bury.

It has been nearly three months since I left the security and love that I knew in Missouri behind me. I'm still not entirely sure why I left, but I'm sure that I had no choice. I was searching for something. Maybe I was trying to find a new life, or maybe I was just trying to find myself again, but, while I'm not sure that I found what I was looking for, I am sure of one thing, moving to Seattle was one of the best experiences of my life--not because of the people I met (even though I did meet some amazing people) and not because of the experiences that I had (even though I had some very interesting experiences). Moving to Seattle was one of the best choices of my life because of what I found.

I found solitude.

Even though it was maddening at times, I now realize that it was exactly what I needed. More than anything, I needed time to realize that I wasn't insane and that I hadn't changed. It was my situation that had changed. And through this realization, I eventually found some peace of mind.

Tuesday morning, I woke up. I opened my eyes and everything was clear again. I have no idea what happened, but I didn't wake up questioning my motivation, my actions, or my being. My life just was. It made sense again.

Life really fucked me over this past year (not that I'm saying it couldn't have been worse), and for a long time I let the man that I have striven to become die. I questioned everything about myself and thought that I was the problem, that I needed to change to find real life again. But I am not, and was not, the problem.

I woke up last Tuesday in a new state of mind. I am no longer floating through this world in a haze, and for the first time in months I feel alive, truly alive. I'm not saying that there isn't still a long way to go, but I feel that I have at least regained my footing.

So to all of my friends and family who have been wondering how I've been: I'm good. Expect great things.