I Opened Up and Sabotaged Myself: And I failed successfully

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“Be yourself.”

I’ve always liked this idea.

The stories of being yourself that make you shine and thrive are really beautiful. They inspire us to stay true to ourselves and stand strong no matter what; they remind us that no matter what happens, it is us that matters, not others, and they encourage us to live a life we won’t regret.

Staying true to ourselves makes us unique, defines our character, and pushes us through no matter how hard the times are…

Except, it’s impossible to be ourselves.

Let’s be real. We live our lives putting on all sorts of masks.

Me in my family, me with my friends, and me at work were all different. I had no other choice because people expected me to be them — the person that fits them and pleases them.

I hated it. It felt like I was never myself — my true self; I was constantly trying to be somebody else — all sorts of people; it felt like I was silencing my heart. But it was the only choice because the world was just too hostile for me to show my true self.

I knew that if I had opened up, I would have been crushed by all the corruption and lack of sincerity the moment I opened the gates of my heart.

I knew that if I had opened up, I would have been drained by this society’s thirst for purity. It takes advantage of every sincere heart until it’s darkened and emptied for somebody else’s profit.

I knew that I had to protect myself from this dangerous world and that I couldn’t let this world sabotage my soul until it was left corrupted. It’s too fragile for any of this, and it needs my protection.

However, protecting my soul is the single most tiring job to ever do, and it’s not even close.

Every day, I lived at least three lives simultaneously. I had to be the “family me” in the morning when I had breakfast with my parents, the “work me” when I finally got to the office, and the “friend me” after work…

I felt like I’d had enough; no matter how hard I tried, it would not work. Every day felt like a torture, and it’s getting worse as each day passes. It was only a matter of time before…

I’ve had enough.

It’s too much for me to handle. Even though I knew it was sabotage, even though I knew it was going to end horribly wrong, I had no other choice.

It’s down to survival — I either kill myself by continuing to survive until I run out of energy, or I open up and let myself suffer in hell. As much as I wanted to keep going, I had to let go and let the heart present itself to this hostile world…

I allowed myself to be myself.

---

Everything went as I had foreseen.

I drove my boss crazy, and he fired me. As I left the office building, somebody offered me a few pills, and I took them without even questioning. I left my family and blocked all my friends; I ran away from everything because I was not myself.

I was jobless and homeless, and all I looked forward to every day, was being high on drugs.

The soul had been completely crushed; the heart had been entirely corrupted; I was no longer myself.

I gave up. I’ve lost control, and I couldn’t regain it. Darkness has taken over me, and I have no control of it anymore.

I surrendered totally.

---

I guess we had hit rock bottom.

That was it, the end. I wasn’t myself anymore. I was a total loser in life and a failure in society. I didn’t protect myself well enough, I didn’t provide a safe space to let myself grow, and I failed myself.

I failed, and I ended up in hell.

I could have done more; I should have let myself die. There are things far worse than death, and torture sure is one of them — that you desperately want to die, but you can’t.

I wanted a second chance so I could avoid suffering; I wanted a second chance so I could protect myself from hell; I wanted a second chance so I could choose death.

---

One thing about living a rock-bottom life is that I get to rethink my life — every decision I’ve made. All the ones that helped me survive and all the ones that sabotaged my life. It pushed me to relive every moment throughout my life that led to this point.

Society ditched me, and now I’m just a loser at the corners of the streets. I tried to be myself, and the world capitalized on it. They corrupted the entirety of me, and all I could do was watch myself suffer.

I miss my family and friends. But I couldn’t bring myself to see them again — they wouldn’t accept this version of me…

“Son? Is that you?”

Holy smokes, how did he spot me? “Dad?”

“Oh my goodness! What have you become?”

I desperately wanted to run away, but there was something about me that just stopped me from even standing up. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being myself. Look at this mess I am right now. I’m a homeless addict wandering around the streets.”

“You’re not homeless.”

I couldn’t really comprehend what he meant by I’m not homeless. I’m spending nights sleeping on the streets — that’s literally the definition of homeless… “I am. Look at me.”

“A dumbass who left his house? Totally. A homeless guy? Absolutely not.”

“I can’t just go back, Dad. I’m too deep in the void.”

“Look around you. What do you see?”

“A bunch of losers, drowning, just like me.”

“Really? You think you’re just like them?”

“I’m the worst anyone could be.”

“The worst someone could be would be getting worse and not stopping it.”

“I am at the worst.”

“No, you’re not. There’s something in you stopping you from getting worse, and it’s calling to you. Are you ready to find it? Also, home is welcome whenever you want to come back.”

I didn’t understand what he was saying, but something in me just stood up and followed my dad. He took me home, showered, and made me breakfast.

---

And just like that, I started living in my house. I didn’t want to go out; I didn’t want anything to do with life — laying on my bed every day. There weren’t any drugs at home, but I was just so beaten up that I couldn’t even go out.

“Are you sure you’re so beaten up that you stopped taking drugs?”

“I mean, how else would you put it?”

“I see my son growing. I see my son getting stronger every day. I see my son slowly overcoming his problems, climbing out of his pit. He stopped taking more, and now he’s taking none.”

I finally figured it out. It was myself — my true self. It’s growing every day, strengthening along the way, overcoming the difficulties ahead…

The true self doesn’t need protection; it needs strengthening. Sometimes, being ourselves is hard because we know we can’t handle it or it’s too hostile to open up.

But it is only through opening up that we can let ourselves face trials, trials that strengthen us and make us stronger. As we become stronger and stronger, we can be our true selves because we know that we are strong enough to handle this world.

I opened up and sabotaged myself, but I also finally allowed it to grow, becoming stronger and more resilient. It was hell, but when I came out, I realized the fire was not from hell but a furnace that forges us to become greater.

“Be yourself. Trust yourself. Forge yourself.”