The way I always thought about the “”self help”” industry is the idea that there will finally be that one book that has that one chapter that contains that one paragraph with the one sentence that completely and totally revamps my life and makes it exactly what I want. Forever. I will have “”arrived”” at the place I want to be.
I know that will not happen. But there is a little part of me that dreams of it. Because it would be so nice to have something just flip to good.
What I have learned is confronting oneself and one’s past. The thing on my mind recently has been - because October - horror movies and scary stuff in general.
I have been trying to pinpoint the exact moment when the idea of a “scare for fun” turned into something that just leaves me unsettled for far too long. A personal problem, to be sure, but one that needs to be delved into. Because it is not fun to scream when you think you are alone but a family member comes home before you think they will. It is not fun to be scared and not know why. But living without thinking about these things is not progress.
Which made last week’s episode of Roderick on the Line a heavy listen. I have never done any sort of drugs outside of minor consumption of alcohol, but the idea of using them to protect yourself from feelings or to avoid confronting feelings is something that kept me away. The idea that I might find myself going “Hey, this is easier than dealing with my problems” and becoming completely lost is possibly the most terrifying thing.