I know…it’s been a while.

Quote of the week:

“Knowing yourself is the beginning of all wisdom.”

— Aristotle

Today is my birthday. In most eyes, a day that is to be celebrated. A day to venture out and anxiously plan for the next year to be better than the last. It’s a never-ending cycle that, sometimes, even consumes people. So. Much. Pressure. Am I right?

The last time I posted was on July 1st, 2018. That’s two and a half months since I’ve made a public post. I have written plenty of pieces since then, but I felt that they became rather painful to write and even more painful to read. I’m not going to sugarcoat this: I was not well. I wanted to shut down. I wanted my stress to end.

I’m twenty-five today. Crazy to think that I’m now a quarter century old… Not to dwell on the age factor, I began reflecting on my year as being twenty-four. I had MANY ups and downs. For lack of better words, I learned a shit ton.

These last few months have really pushed me to my most uncomfortable limits. I didn’t sleep. I wasn’t eating right. My schedule was “balls to the walls” insane. I couldn’t balance it. My last post talked about being a B.A.M.F. I contemplated deleting that post actually. I felt embarrassed and that I failed myself hardcore. I was really trying to diagnose where my mind was while reading that post. How did I make such a drastic turn?

You may be asking yourself “why is this dude writing a blog post on his birthday?”, “shouldn’t he be out having fun?”. Good questions, no doubt. Why am I writing this today? I want to tell a story. A story about my actual birthday.

My Mother went into labor the morning of September 13, 1993 in San Leandro, California. Both my parents were enduring a considerate amount of emotions, but for rather unorthodox reasons. My Father’s Father, or my Grandfather, was dying during the same time my Mother was in labor. So there was my Father, sitting at the edge of my Grandfather’s bed, holding the last bit of life out of his hands. He passed. My Father rushed to the hospital where my Mother was giving birth to me. Thus, I was born into the world. Not knowing a thing. Innocent. Blissful. I was named Matthew, for they called me a “Gift from God”. This all happened in a span of only five hours.

Fast forward twenty-five years, and here I am telling this story to the world. Imagine that position my parents had to go through for a moment. The inconsiderable amount of emotions. How does someone act when their Father passes, but their son is born? Is it bittersweet? Some may even call it unfair. I may be considered among those some.

My purpose to share this story is not for pity. It is a testament of love. It is something I could never even begin to imagine happening in my life. The very thought of losing one of my parents is blasphemy. Most of us could not bear the loss of a parent, but to witness the birth of your first born during the same time? Now there’s something you don’t hear everyday.

I share this story because it reminds me of the pain and suffering my Dad had to endure. He managed to fight it and overcome one of the most emotional times in his life. I never got to know any of my real Grandfathers. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t sometimes eerie to think I share my day with that event.

Now, I’m not comparing my Dad’s traumatic event to the occurrences I’ve had over the last few months. I so admire what he did and that he continued to move forward. I am not like him or the most self-profound person you’ll meet. Heck, sometimes I barely feel like a person honestly.

I am learning that many things take time and patience. Two things I have not had a lot of. I am not afraid to admit my shortcomings. I have learned that I have to deal with the problems in my life, rather than just writing about them and shoving them under the rug. Obviously, there are things I simply can’t share with you with the understanding that they are extremely personal. I wish I could give you more context to what I’ve been feeling, but perhaps I’ll feel ready for that another time.

In this moment, there are still many things I’m learning about myself. I have to remember that it’s okay to be young and to make mistakes. I keep trying to figure it all out and have all the answers immediately. I’m finding that that path leads to unmet expectations, which leads to disappointment. If you’re finding yourself in this situation like me, remember to breathe. It sounds so cliche, but don’t forget to literally BREATHE. Take things as they are and deal with them. I’m trying not to be the hero in every situation. It’s so much pressure.

Sometimes it’s nice to get on the page, vent a little, and express my thoughts. I have many of them and want you to know that I genuinely care about this platform. The support has been amazing, even in my absence. I’m so grateful that these words can help even one person. Just know that life will never be perfect. Be intentional with your time and thoughts. The rest will come, even if it feels like a lifetime.

-Matt