Survival Demanded
I've always felt sorry for folks who were perfectly happy as kids, teenagers, and young adults. There's an unseen downside in having no context for darkness – when your shadow finally sneaks up to grab you, you've got no natural immunity. I've seen the bottom fall out for a lot of men in my age group, hit hard in their twenties and thirties. They don't know how to deal with it, so end up unhinged or shut down all together. I've got sympathy for the former, but find the latter hard to relate. Giving up the fight is understandable, but hardly honourable. A lot of middle-aged guys think that their dullness is earned. Hard work is exhausting, and at the end of the day, they just want to shut off. But the outlet of making a mess of yourself is underrated. I don't mean anger, that's cheap. You've gotta be stronger to get weak. I cry at shows and movies, laugh at simple beauty, feel emotionally overwhelmed on a daily basis. I keep absolutely nothing to myself. It was a tough thing to learn. At first, all your bleeding is black and congealed, just a disgusting misery to be around. But eventually, the blood flows bright red and fully oxygenated – and the wounds you stopped trying to stifle will heal.
Some of my earliest memories are of feeling somehow off, wearing an unnamed emotional weight, or buzzing from unseen anxiety. That was in my head from the start. Growing up wasn't something I'd want to repeat. Most of my childhood was outwardly happy, but inside, I was a mess. I still sense that static in my background daily, waiting to rise. But that's not how I present face-to-face. Over the past fifteen years, I've become steadily attuned to the light of interaction, pleasures of human connection. Any chance to open up has treated me well. I thought the day would never come when I wasn't constantly complaining, broke down from dragging myself through life. I thought I'd have to wear the badge most men in my family had sewn to their skin by the time I was born – cold and distant like survival demanded it. It was a hell of a heartache, but I shook loose and left myself exposed. Took a hard look at everything, audited my emotions, didn't accept that apathy is earned. It's a curse compiled from a life of not caring. If thawing out doesn't seem worth it at the moment, that's all the evidence you should need that it is.
March 9, 2025
St. Croix Cove, Nova Scotia
Year 18, Day 6328 of my daily journal.
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You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
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Survival Demanded
I've always felt sorry for folks who were perfectly happy as kids, teenagers, and young adults. There's an unseen downside in having no context for darkness – when your shadow finally sneaks up to grab you, you've got no natural immunity. I've seen the bottom fall out for a lot of men in my age group, hit hard in their twenties and thirties. They don't know how to deal with it, so end up unhinged or shut down all together. I've got sympathy for the former, but find the latter hard to relate. Giving up the fight is understandable, but hardly honourable. A lot of middle-aged guys think that their dullness is earned. Hard work is exhausting, and at the end of the day, they just want to shut off. But the outlet of making a mess of yourself is underrated. I don't mean anger, that's cheap. You've gotta be stronger to get weak. I cry at shows and movies, laugh at simple beauty, feel emotionally overwhelmed on a daily basis. I keep absolutely nothing to myself. It was a tough thing to learn. At first, all your bleeding is black and congealed, just a disgusting misery to be around. But eventually, the blood flows bright red and fully oxygenated – and the wounds you stopped trying to stifle will heal.
Some of my earliest memories are of feeling somehow off, wearing an unnamed emotional weight, or buzzing from unseen anxiety. That was in my head from the start. Growing up wasn't something I'd want to repeat. Most of my childhood was outwardly happy, but inside, I was a mess. I still sense that static in my background daily, waiting to rise. But that's not how I present face-to-face. Over the past fifteen years, I've become steadily attuned to the light of interaction, pleasures of human connection. Any chance to open up has treated me well. I thought the day would never come when I wasn't constantly complaining, broke down from dragging myself through life. I thought I'd have to wear the badge most men in my family had sewn to their skin by the time I was born – cold and distant like survival demanded it. It was a hell of a heartache, but I shook loose and left myself exposed. Took a hard look at everything, audited my emotions, didn't accept that apathy is earned. It's a curse compiled from a life of not caring. If thawing out doesn't seem worth it at the moment, that's all the evidence you should need that it is.
March 9, 2025
St. Croix Cove, Nova Scotia
Year 18, Day 6328 of my daily journal.
bluesky | etsy | facebook | instagram
substack | threads | tumblr | youtube
You can support my work
get things in the mail
and see everything
first on Patreon