Under Construction part 2...

Alright J, I'll bite...

You see, I’m a bit of a dreamer…and not much of a do-er. For years I got by on my wit, intelligence, good manners and ability to pretty much talk myself out of any situation. High School was a rough ride scholastically (and socially), but when the chips were down and I needed to get my grades up to get into University…I did. Same at University. My first year was a drunken blur…I can recall many nights putting things off to go out drinking with people I barely knew (or even liked for that matter), then staying up all night the day before something was due, punching something out on my keyboard, editing it and printing it off. It was a rare thing for me to get lower than a C+...so I kept using the system. Almost sleeping in the day of a tests, skipping about 40% of my second semester classes…this was the norm, and I still was able to pull a solid B average going into year 2.

2nd year was nearly a disaster…I literally lived at a house where my friends from High School, who were not enrolled in the University lived…and proceeded to smoke and drink myself even sillier than the year before. We would go days without being sober.

Years 3 and 4 were quite possibly the best two years of my adult life…I had a small group of cool friends, I was entering into more specific territory when it came to my degree (lots of Media and Film related courses), and had two very cool roommates who I got along with. Best of all, I felt like I could be me...I stopped trying to impress anyone and everyone...now if you didn't like me or you didn't know me...or if I missed the gathering at Dave's to stay in and chill with my buddies and play NHL on the Playstation...I didn't really care. (OK, I did...still do...just not as much...) We weren’t big party guys, but we had our circle, and within that circle we had a lot of fun. We also learned a lot about each other and ourselves. Great times!

When I left school, I took a job with my hometown buddies in their new Artist Management/Record Company…and pretty much just kept on doing the same thing I had been doing. I mean, it was Hip Hop for fucks sake…and for a while we lived the life...and I don't even like 98% of Hip Hop. That lasted nearly 2 years…my sense of loyalty and friendship getting me through the last 8 months or so. Then it was off to England for a year to try and learn my now deceased Uncle’s business…real estate. The experience was great, but the business was a mess and I really couldn’t see myself trying to impress ultra rich pseudo British royalty in order to be able to rent out their mansion. It would have been a nice, comfortable life…but I would have been lying to myself, so I gave it up and moved back to Canada.

That was in September of 2004...I was still getting by...only just.

Since then, I’ve been floating. Working low paying jobs where I can keep my head down, scrape out a living, and punch out and leave it behind at the office when the whistle blows. But over the past couple of months, I’ve been feeling myself change. I know I’m selling myself short…I didn’t mind before, but now it kind of bothers me. How many C+'s could have been A's? How many friends would I have today if I had just tried a little harder? Maybe I might have owned a house by now?

Hindsight being what it is, I can clearly pinpoint the day when I started to question myself and my motives…May 8th…the day I had a gun waved in my face and pointed at the back of my head while I was told to get down with my hands behind my head…

It only lasted about 5 minutes…but the lingering effects have been reverberating inside me since. The first few weeks afterwards, I was a mess...but I was able to pull myself back together and went back to work. Part of that was just my ego, part of it was me not wanting to have to go through looking for another job. I kept working the night shifts, kept smiling for the customers…but I wasn’t the same.

As time went on, I started to get back to normal…the flashbacks became less frequent…I was Neil again...or so I thought. They tell you all sorts of things after you’ve been through something like that. How you’ll react…and how to avoid falling deeper and deeper into the hole. I got the list. But for some reason, I wasn’t able to see everything that night had done to me…until much later. I've always been someone who shuts out other people and doesn't take help...even if I probably need it...and that's what I did again. It took a while...but I’m much clearer about what happened now.

A part of me was ruined that night…beaten to a pulp and left for dead. I imagine its sort of like how someone has a small heart attack and a little piece of their heart dies. They live...but their ticker just isn't the same. I knew it then…but I wasn’t sure what part of me had been turned black…and I’m still not totally sure…but it was like someone pressed a reset button, and I had to relearn who I was, what I liked, what I wanted all over again. An emotional stroke of sorts.

For a long time, I’ve felt like a tall, old-fashioned abandoned building…complete with a still respectable exterior, but slowly rotting from the inside out. People walk by and hardly notice. Some people might take a second glace, or 'feel' something is off...but its not clear or strong enough for it to really register. I also don't have a lot of close friends, and the majority of thsoe I hardly ever see now...so I'm never called on it. However, over the past few weeks, I’ve taken it upon myself to stop the decay. I’ve wholeheartedly embraced Buddhism and the art of positive thinking, I’ve reached out to old friends…and attempted to make new ones…even if only virtually…attempting to find myself in my words and thoughts towards others.

And it has helped.

The scaffolding has slowly been erected around this dilapidated brownstone…work is in progress…and slowly, I’ve been picking away at the rotten beams and broken windows…the chipped tile and dusty walls. I’m building myself back up…only better and stronger (hopefully) than before…and when the work is finally done, and the scaffolding comes down, hopefully the passers by will say…

“Wow…they did a nice job with that old building! I think I’m going to go knock on the front door and see who lives there now…”

The new me is going to try as hard as he can to avoid falling into the 'safe mode' that has been my operating system for going on 10 years now (and quite possibly my whole life). I'm still punching in everyday, still living in my cave...but I know I want more now...I do deserve better. Its not going to happen overnight...it'll take time, like learning how to play guitar (which I finally intend on doing!). I'm pretty sure I'll probably take a few backwards steps along the way (this is ME we're talking about remember?) but at least now I'll be calling myself out if I do. I'm not throwing out all of old Neil's stuff...its the regrets and the missteps and the what if's that are being put out by the curb...with all the other garbage that's been piling up for 27 years.