This is Josh. The real Josh. The Josh that should have been here all along.

The Three Gratitudes

Thank you for reading this. So much of this has needed to be said… well, written… for a very long time. Garbage and bullshit has clouded so many of my perceptions, caused so much projection of anxieties and catastrophic conjecture, and it set myself and those I love up for failure and heartbreak. In the last few months, so much of the opposite has happened that I feel warranted in writing this letter.

Thank you for honesty. For my own part, I’ve taken it as my charge to be completely, consistently, transparently honest, with myself, and with everyone around me. This can get awkward at times, but better this than letting fear and grief and unchecked wild emotions and myopic head-weasel-influenced thoughts overwhelm the truth of myself, the truth I denied for so long, the truth I now own.

Thank you for bearing with me. There are so many things that can make me, and have made me, unbearable. Approaching relationships from a place of ignorance and impatience. Breaking trusts. Breaking hearts. Shattering something breathtakingly beautiful. Intent does not forgive action, but I have never intended to cause pain or suffering or discomfort in anything I’ve said or done. I do not deny the part I played in so much going so wrong. I accept the responsibility for what occurred. I bend all of the powers of my mind to be better, to do better. I complexly imagine those hurt by my actions; especially the actions of Josh-that-was.

Throwing Away the Garbage Human

We, all of us, who survived the devastation of lies being revealed and wonderful constructs full of potential melting down, are still moving away from the disaster zone of Josh-that-was. You, me, all of us had to come face to face with the fact that I was falling so short of the tenants that, even then, I desperately wished I could adhere to on a daily basis, because of self-deception and ignorance and fear. And all of us, including myself, were right to discard and abandon that garbage human.

It was a being full of anxiety and impatience. Too often subscribing to “carpe diem” in a way that could only lead to ruin. Possessed by a fear that if someone ended a conversation, went to another location, so much as left the room, that they might never come back. That the same thing would happen to them that happened to Jen – an abrupt, violent, inexplicable death that leaves a deep and festering wound that takes a long time to heal, if it ever does. That fear was so woven into the character of Josh-that-was that every action, every intention, every word was built on unsteady ground, and every seed planted was done so in topsoil far too attractive for head weasels and maggots of that old wound to ignore.

That is unfair to other humans. That is too impulsive, too self-destructive, and ultimately leads to dishonesty and devastation. That is why I regard Josh-that-was as an other. In the kindest terms, that thing was a bad shed. Old dead scales clung to me as I tried to grow and change, and that growth was stifled and misdirected, incomplete and painful, and I struggled even to breathe, let alone be rid of that which I no longer needed, had long outgrown, and should not have allowed to shatter and burn so many things that still hold a place in my heart.

In unkind terms, I took Josh-that-was, put it on its knees, fired two rounds (honesty and determination) into the back of its head, and buried it out back. Because FUCK THAT BULLSHIT.

I apologize. That was intense. I do not want you to feel uneasy reading this. I no longer wish to harm myself. I simply feel that I have gone too long without making it absolutely clear to the people I love where my rational mind is at, even when it goes to dark places, perhaps even especially then. I feel that I owe you insight as to how I am more earnestly and deeply dealing with my Shadow. I feel that I should explain what it means when I say I am learning to love myself.

Being My Own Partner

I have to see myself as a complex individual worth loving, the way I see you. I ask myself: “If I would treat a partner in the way I’m treating myself, would they tolerate it?” Basically, I am trying to see myself as my primary partner. Engaging in active self-care. Forgiving myself. Learning about myself. Focusing on good moments, and moving past bad ones, rather than encapsulating an entire day with the label of “good” or “bad”. And, perhaps most importantly, being honest when I feel afraid or angry or grandiose or depressed or anxious.

Fear drove so many of my bad decisions. Even now, it’s a serious part of my thought process. I’m afraid of repeating past mistakes. I’m afraid of people I love getting hurt. I’m afraid of always being seen as something monstrous, in my own eyes or in the eyes of others (oh, I’ll get to that). But so many of those fears have no real foundation. Past performance, after all, is not an indication of future events. Considering how much I can and have accomplished to heal and recover – my medication is as it should be, I have therapy lined up, my vlog series is yielding positive results and I no longer hate myself nor long for an end to my existence (mostly to satisfy the perceived wishes of those I’ve harmed) – I have no reason to let those fears take control of my words and actions. While I am circumspect with what I say, how I behave, and the things I decide to do, I work to adopt circumspection not out of fear, but out of respect for the boundaries of others, and just as importantly, respect for my own.

Even if I don’t have a solid idea of what I want, outside of a few basic things, I do have a solid idea of the core thing I require to get whatever it is I decide I want. And that is to continually grow and change. To work harder to forge myself, temper myself over and over again, even when it’s hard, especially when it’s hard. To love myself like my life depends on it.

Eurydice admonished me to do that very thing.

You know what good writing is. A good protagonist is never static. A good villain very often is.

Please Don’t Let Me Be Misunderstood

The thing is, to some of you, I am the villain.

We all cope in different ways. We all deal with loss and grief however our current state of mind requirest in order to at least begin healing. For some of you, that is retreating into a place of solitude to collect and parse thoughts and feelings. For others, it is launching off in an entirely different direction in an attempt to escape or dull the pain. And for a few of you, it is changing the narrative, past and present, and casting those who once were the strongest and most beloved of allies to the vilest and most insidious of despicable traitors.

All of that is okay.

Let me reiterate and emphasize that, point for point.

It is okay to not talk to me.

It is okay to leave me in your dust.

It is okay to make me your villain.

Granted, none of these are things I’d want for myself regarding you, if I were given the choice. But the choice is not up to me. It is up to you. You, as an individual, as the sole sovereign of your own mind and heart and soul, make the choices you feel are best given the information you have. You have the right to invite or disinvite me into your orbit as much or as little as befits your comfort zone. None of your feelings, none of them, are invalid. And when you make a choice that puts me at a distance, even if it means to paint me as the villain in your mind and pushing me out of your heart, that is your choice. You have every right to make it. And as much as it might hurt me, as much as it might keep me awake at night, as much as I long to do something, anything, to make things right between us… I cannot hate you for it. I cannot swear out warrants against you for hurting me. I do not resent you, nor do I wish you ill.

In fact, you know what? I am fucking proud of you for taking back space for you. Even if it was from me (which you had every right to do, see above regarding me being a garbage human back then).

Strange, maybe. But it’s the truth. And you have been owed that for a long, long time.

“That’s all you had to say.” “Okay. ONE MORE THING-“

I am determined to not rely on any person or any one thing to keep me moving forward. At the end of the day, I am the only thing I can rely upon. I must believe in the me that believes in myself. Yes, I know I just referenced Hamilton and now Gurren Lagann is coming up again. It does that. I’m not apologizing. As much as I say I am done with escalators, at least in terms of relationships (and mostly in terms of transit centers, I need the damn exercise), I am still focused on drilling towards the heavens, even if I’m just digging my own grave.

I love you. I appreciate you. I am thankful for you.

You mean a lot to me. You always will.

Even in the midst of all of the sound and all of the fury of Josh-that-was, I have held fast to the strange and contrary notion that I do not give up on the individuals that I love. Ever. EVER. Relationships have suffered and died, often as a direct result of Josh-that-was, but as individuals? You and me? We are worth believing in. I still do. I always will. Even if we never speak again.

You may have put me at a distance. You may have broken off what connections we’ve had. You may have disappeared into the mists.

All I can do, as someone who loves and respect you, is howl at the world and the moon and the mists, and wonder if you can hear me.

I will not demand your attentions. I will not make a mountain out of a molehill between you and me. I will not chase you. I will not make presumptions, hold onto how Josh-that-was saw you, or expect anything from you in my daily life. I am all I need for that. I have to be. By myself. For myself.

But you and I are alive. And where there is life, there is hope. As much as it might be foolish, I foster the flame of hope deep within the Pandora’s jar that contains all of my shit. It’s all together, in one place. All of my anxiety and depression and ghosts and grandiosity and fears and rages snarl and gnaw and claw at one another to be the first to pop out. And hope is at the very bottom. Where my inner child cradles it like the tiniest of candle flames. I stand over that child to keep the other shit at bay.

Because hoping without action may be a mistake, but hope itself is one of the most powerful forces in the fucking universe.

Back To The Future

Do I hope that you and I will talk about all of this? Yes. Do I hope that, if you and I are estranged, we will reconnect at some point? Yes. Do I hope for a tomorrow with you so, so much better than anything we could have imagined, for one another as individuals? Yes.

Do I expect any of that? No.

My only expectation of myself is that I will keep on living. By myself. For myself. Growing and changing and moving into the future, one day, one moment, one step at a time.

My expectation of you is that you will live.

You will do similarly for you as I do for me. Love yourself. Forgive yourself. Improve yourself. And be yourself, for yourself.

You are wonderful. You are beautiful. And you are worth it.

To once again call back to Hamilton, “that would be enough.”

My door is now and will always be unlocked for you. Even if it seems or feels closed. I do not expect you to knock on it. I am fine in the solitude and quiet. I’m thinking. I’m feeling. I’m growing. I am Josh. I am myself. And I am pretty damn cool when I’m not swimming in my own bullshit.

But let me just close with this.

If you ever want to, if you ever feel ready, whenever that might be…

Speak, friend, and enter.

Even if it isn’t in this life, I hope to know you again. I hope this finds you well. And I hope you take this as it is intended – with honesty, with determination, and most of all, with love.

I am and always shall be your friend.

Josh