Dark Night of the Soul

You have to be careful when you ask questions. When you stare at the foundation of society, or looking back on your own life and doubt whether or not what you’ve been told is your authentic truth or if it’s an echo of something else, something sinister that provides temporary comfort but never satisfaction.

If you start asking too many questions, you’ll go through a dark night of the soul. If you’re lucky, something inside of you will die that night in order for something new to be birthed. If you’re unlucky, you could be going through a living hell. Let me tell you about my dark night.

Before all nights, of course, is the day. It started with me checking my bank account - about 46 dollars to spend about two days after receiving my paycheck. The majority of my tiny paycheck went to bills. I had 46 dollars to survive two weeks on. But, “that’s okay” I would tell myself. I grew up poor, so the “lack of” mentality is what I am familiar with. And, I am a local news reporter, so my job isn’t about the money right? It’s about serving communities and telling stories. Except, when you work in an environment where your managers treat you as a resource rather than a human, you can’t serve the community.

Demands were made on me to perform more tasks than my peers. That’s because I always said “yes” to tasks in the past. Take advantage of every opportunity, right? Isn’t that what they tell you in school to be successful? Hard work pays off in the end, right? Except, when your hard work is being credited to someone else, that pay off doesn’t go to you.

I had nothing to drink but energy drinks all day. Not coffee, because that wasn’t enough to give me sustainable energy. I got the “zero calorie” or “sugar free” versions, because those are supposed to be healthier, right? Maybe so, but when you have four of them, they’re not.

The sun was shining bright, casting stark shadows throughout the day. I didn’t have time to take a lunch break because I had a deadline I was supposed to meet. You still put in that you took some time off for lunch, because there’s pressure from management not to put in overtime pay. Not direct pressure, but one time I was called into the office to make sure I “take a lunch hour”. That’s not always possible when you’re also assigned task after task, with daily turn-arounds. But, those are just the kind of sacrifices you have to make at the beginning of your career and after you gain experience, you don’t have to go through that. Except, do you really want to work in an industry that treats people that way?

Around quitting time of that day, I wasn’t asking these questions. I was trying to head out before the sun set so I could go for a run. I was so stressed and wired from the caffeine, I almost felt as if I was buzzing. After a very long run, ten miles to be exact, I felt dizzy. A dizziness I’ve never experienced. My body also felt very, very heavy. As I got closer and closer to my apartment, I started convulsing, trying to keep myself from throwing up. It was a struggle for me to open my front door, my hands were shaking, I was sweating intensely but I felt very, very cold. I made it to the kitchen sink and started throwing up bile. I couldn’t walk, I slid down to my hands and knees and laid on the floor. Then, my heart started pounding. Really, really pumping. I had a splitting headache. I tried getting up to drink water, but every time I tried standing up, my heart would beat fast and heavy, like a drum falling off a truck and bouncing around on a highway.

I can’t remember much, except trying to stay as still as possible, trying to stay conscious. I debated about calling 911 but didn’t want to worry about an ambulance bill. Eventually I got up and slowly made my way to my car, stopping to gag in the plastic bag I grabbed from the kitchen.

I eventually made it to the hospital, by some miracle. I swiped my car on the sidewalk a couple times, and stopped every so often to throw-up, but I didn’t get in any accidents.

Now, I wish I could tell you things got better once I ended up at the ER. But they didn’t. For eight hours, I was left in the waiting room. The nurses were trying to check me in, but I couldn’t even talk. I was shaking, I was throwing up, at some point I ended up in a wheelchair, they kept giving me bags to throw up in, but I didn’t see a doctor for hours. During this time, I was cursing everyone in my head - my boss, my co-workers, old professors, anyone who had some influence in my life. But as the night went on, I started feeling better. I could move my head without my heart beating fast, I felt nauseous but I wasn’t gagging. I could keep down water.

Eventually, at 3:23 A.M. they rolled me into one of the rooms. As the nurse put the IV in me, it suddenly hit me. It wasn’t a major revelation, trumpets blasting in the air. Rather, it was a thought that seemed to land as soft as a feather. The only person I can blame really for getting me in this situation is myself. I let myself be taken advantage of, abused, by not setting boundaries. By letting my ego drive me to do things for the limelight. The tyrant of always wanting to be recognized, loved, and accepted, personified and projected onto bosses and co-workers.

Never again. That’s what I took away from this situation. Never again will I put myself in a situation like that, where I am on my hands and knees blacking out from dehydration, or helpless in a wheelchair feeling humiliated in the waiting room of an ER as people watch me throw up into a bag, waiting for hours, alone, for some sort of treatment. I thought to myself, “No award is going after is this is where I’m ending up.”

Now - in the Christian Bible there’s a book called Exodus. The Hebrews escape the tyranny of Egyptian rule, but they don’t immediately go into the promised land. They wander around the desert, for years, making mistakes before they can reach the land of milk and honey. That’s where I am right now, in the desert. But at least I am fleeing the tyranny of my ego, and trying to find the promised land, where I can truly find work that makes me feel at peace. I don’t know if that will ever happen, but I’d rather walk forever in the desert rather than die in shackles.