Sources of Joy and Bitterness

I recently wrote a whiny Facebook post about my bitterness due to a running-related injury.  I haven't been able to run for a week due to what appears to be a case of Plantar Fasciitis in my left heel.

Running is my outlet, my therapy, my time to think deeply - alone - about all things deep, funny, troubling, and beautiful.  It also helps keep the weight off as I'm prone to overindulging in pretty much everything I like.  In short, it's essential to both my mental and physical well-being.

A friend commented on the Facebook post - perhaps in jest, perhaps not - something to the effect of "What's your excuse for the other 20 years of bitterness?" (not a direct quote, as somehow the post disappeared).  At first I laughed then the gears began to turn.  Unfortunately, it really is a great question for me.

If I'm really honest, I've displayed more than my fair share of bitterness for not 20 years, not 25 years, but for just over 32 of my 49 years.  In fact, only now can I clearly see with some degree of precision when my bitterness began, how it's transformed, and the sources of it.  But it's not like there's been only bitterness along the way.  There has been tremendous joy as well.

But what separates the two?  I'm no psychologist, but the two really feel like polar opposites on a continuum.

Joy: a feeling of great pleasure and happiness.

Bitterness:  anger and disappointment at being treated unfairly; resentment.

Note well that bitterness involves anger, disappointment, and resentment, but sometimes involves an actor.

Normally I prefer to discuss positive things before dwelling on the negative; It's my nature as a sales professional.  But this rant began with bitterness, so let's get to it.  This is the part where I open up and reveal some deeply personal things in a public forum; The things that most people would consider unspeakable.  I'm not writing to those people.  Those people - with all due respect - can kiss my ass.  I don't need them, I don't care for them, they do nothing for me, and I really don't want to do anything for them.  This isn't a business meeting or an introduction as a contestant on Jeopardy.  This is for the rest of you who prefer to discuss some real stuff.  This blog is about recovery from bad things, so here goes.

Why did I identify 32 years of bitterness?  That would take me back to the summer of 1981.  Short story:  I was raised by my mom who was on her third marriage.  I was beginning my senior year in high school and was really excited about finally returning to academic excellence so that I could prepare for college (I had been a superb student in a good school district before moving out into the sticks and discovering juvenile delinquency, beer, and other enticements).  In spite of the challenges of life with my blue collar mom - who was a key punch operator and earned very little - I didn't really know any different.  I loved my mom, visited my dad occasionally, excelled at baseball and tennis (before moving into a rural area), and had a generally happy life.  All that changed in August, 1981 when my mom committed suicide while I was visiting a friend after school.  Perhaps I'll share the details in a book, should I ever man-up and write it.

Yes, it was deeply traumatic.  But many would say "Man-up young man!  Don't let that shit get you down!"  For me, it was a "finding bedrock" moment.  When you've essentially been raised by a single parent, they are your bedrock, your sole provider of most everything.  When they proactively decide to desert you, your compass spins.  You have nowhere to turn and nothing makes sense.  No matter what you've done - good or bad - they're there for you.  Now they're not.  If you're lucky, some other family members will attempt to help.  But for me, that didn't really happen.  No offer of assistance was really authentic or substantive.  They had absolutely no idea whatsoever where I was and were ill-equipped to deal with me.  I was angry - and frankly - a little dangerous.  Ultimately, they all just looked away.  They owed me nothing, so why not?  They had families of their own and who needed the headache?  Were it not for the generosity of a friend's family, I would have had no place to live while I tried to finish high school.

After graduating high school by the skin of my teeth, I became hungry, broke, homeless (for a very short time), and bitterness began to really take hold.  Why?  This sob story is relatively mild compared to the reality billions face ever single day.  I was busting my ass for any job I could find to pay rent, keep gas in my 1974 VW Beetle (With no starter.  Parking on hills for push-starts was key).  I would scrape pennies to buy bread and peanut butter.  But let's face it: on a global scale, my problems were really mild.

It was all about expectations.  I expected my mom to always be there.  I did not expect her to check out and abandon me.  It's not like she died of cancer or in a car accident; she killed herself without so much as a note.  I expected her to take care of me until I was self-sufficient.  I expected her to be around to see me survive puberty, get my shit together, graduate college, get married, have kids, attain success, and participate in the enjoyment of my life.  I expected her to enjoy her life and achieve her own goals.  None of these expectations would be met and I...was...pissed.  She called it quits at 38.

OK, so that covers some time of bitterness, but what about the rest?

Religion.  I had been indoctrinated from very early childhood into Conservative Christianity.  For me, that meant:

• The Bible was the perfect, inerrant, "Word of God"
• If you couldn't buy that level of burden, it was at least the "inspired Word of God".
• Everything you would ever need to know was written there: Master it.  He gave you the perfect plan for a successful, Godly life.
• The Bible was morally perfect.
• The Bible was historically accurate.
• The Bible was not contradictory.
• You need not live life with your own understanding.  Just pray, and God will handle the rest.
• Your knowledge and work effort are futile.  God will carry the day.
• Nothing you do can derail God's perfect plan.
• God has a perfect plan for your life and all others.
• If God's plan isn't happening in your life, it's your fault, because you have free will to work against it / Him.
• All human suffering is a result of Free Will.
• God has appointed all those over you: respect and defer to them.
• If you had faith, all that you desire would be given to you.
• etc, etc, etc

In spite of working my ass off after serving in the Navy, while working full time, and raising a family, to attain both a bachelor's degree and an MBA from a top school, I still deferred to this superstition for major life choices.  I believed all of it.  I taught all of it.  But in the end, I found none of it to be true.  Unmet, unrealistic expectations.  Most of it, in fact, turned out to be demonstrably false and it didn't take much work to reveal it as such.  I had set aside all I learned academically and professionally to lean on a faith that delivered none of what is promised.  More bitterness.

I'll spare the career issues and other elements that flowed from the religious items.  Let's just say that religion turned out to be very destructive for me, no matter how much I gave, served, studied, taught, and prayed.  I was all-in, until it all crumbled through some very simple research and reasoning.  Decades of belief vanished with a few years of genuine study without presuppositions of truth.  More bitterness still.

But the story doesn't end there.  What about joy?  Was there no joy throughout this journey?  What about now?  Do you still cling to bitterness, like "the devil you know"?

To the last question: Absolutely not.  There were many joys in my life along the way and life has returned to a joyful state.  What was the difference?  Expectations.  When we set our expectations realistically - in reality - and those expectations are either met or exceeded, life is good.

The U.S. Navy was an enormous joy for me.  I joined hoping for clothing, food, medical care, and safety.  The Navy was a refuge, but delivered so much more: Pure reward for hard work.  Graduate top of your class, get your pick of orders.  I was a Naval Aircrewman and Search and Rescue Swimmer.  After about 1 1/2 years of training, I earned my wings and got the aircraft, coast, squadron, most of the detachments and ships I wanted, etc.  Work hard, achieve excellence, get rewarded.  Awesome.  The U.S. Navy helped me regain confidence and reminded me that I had value.  I was capable of professional achievement, despite my family's doubts and my former self-doubt, and college seemed doable.

My children have been the most remarkable joy in my life.  They continue to exceed my expectations in every way, but mainly through who they've become as human beings.  True, bountiful joy.

My wife has been a source of joy for me and has stood by me throughout my challenges, recovery,  and even through my giving up on faith.  While she's in a very different place, there is neither judgement nor condemnation.

My career has recently returned to be a source of joy.  Once we realize the situations we thrive in and those we don't, clarity emerges.  Perhaps there are some people who can excel in any environment, any situation whatsoever.  I'm not that guy.  I've always been able to "get by" through brute force, but when I really access and lever my academic and professional training, I paint a view of how the business world should be and work best within that construct.  It's no longer a faith proposition, I have many data points that I no longer fight and continue to add to.

My friends have blessed my life in more ways that I can count and make my life richer every day.  They challenge me, listen to me, help me, and love me, no matter what.  I met most of these friends in the Navy.

All this is to say that the difference between bitterness and joy is really as simple as setting realistic expectations and working hard to exceed them.  It's true in business and it's true in life.  It's easy to say and difficult to do, but it is truth.

Peace to you my friends.