PhD Dropout

Here we go. “I’m an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.” 

What do you think about that sentence?

Can you relate? 

Are you golf-clapping with a knowing and affirmative expression, nodding in vigorous approval? Or, does it seem ridiculous? Are you crossing your arms, shaking your head side-to-side with an angry frown?

Either reaction is acceptable, and I validate your right to any and all hand gestures.

In our last episode, I discussed my struggles with alcohol. There’s a lot more to that story (and all of these stories), but in this chapter of my recovery journey, I want to discuss meaning and purpose.

Friends, let me bring it back: I *am* an egomaniac with an inferiority complex.

I know. PLOT TWIST!

This description is not an insult. In fact, it can be a profoundly comforting truth precisely because it explains so much about my behavior.

Many recovering addicts (and non-addicts!) fit this description as well. As a result, we hustle and grind to compensate for our perceived weaknesses. 

We have to PROVE to ourselves and to others that we have value. We need EVIDENCE that we are worth as much as the next person. In order to find acceptance, some of us pursue an endless series of accomplishments that leave us feeling just as empty and inadequate as before.

“But maybe the next thing I do will make me happy!”

Reclaiming my integrity was hard work, and each milestone was cause for celebration. And rightly so.

A month of sobriety? 

YAY!

My first run in nearly two years? 

GO ME!

Eating a half-gallon of ice cream in one sitting? 

BEN, WHAT CAN’T YOU DO?!?

But sometimes I wonder if I love milestones a bit too much. Nothing gets me pumped like a tangible marker of my success and achievement.

Upon getting sober, I threw myself back into the hustle of life. 

Having missed out on so much while I was circling the drain, I felt the need to prove that I was every bit the capable and ambitious person I had once been before my plunge into the darkness.  

But egomaniacs with inferiority complexes should beware of the hustle. Discipline suits me far better.

Discipline, NOT Hustle 

“The pursuit of happiness is such an unhappy pursuit,” as a wise person recently told me.

A big part of my recovery has been learning that I don’t need permission to be happy. I used to tell myself that I could be happy when I finally deserved happiness. Now, I didn’t phrase it like that, and I certainly didn’t think that’s how I thought. 

But I did behave as if my happiness depended on someone else’s permission and approval.

But I’m done with that nonsense. 

I’m letting go.

There is no “on” or “off” switch for happiness, at least not that I’m aware of. But, over the past few months I’ve noticed something encouraging: I just don’t care as much about what people think. It’s amazing!

Not caring about whether or not I’ve “done enough” to justify my happiness or be deemed worthy in the eyes of others is incredibly liberating.

Instead of measuring myself against achievement, I’ve learned to ask myself if I’m living in accordance with my values. If the answer is “yes,” that’s enough for me.

Hustling for achievement and approval is a dead end. It leads to burnout. It’s rarely fulfilling. And when it is fulfilling, it’s short lived and leaves you feeling less adequate than before. Or, at least that’s been my experience.

Hustling led me to believing my value was contingent upon the things I accomplished.

Discipline helps me actually enjoy those things.

So, what do I do?

I work, and work to the best of my ability. I love my family and try to be present in the moment. I keep in shape through running and strength training. I read as many books as I can. I write music.

But success in those things do not define me. Living in accordance with a higher purpose is what keeps me going.

Hustling helped me get my life back. But discipline is helping me keep the life I want to live.

It’s not always pretty. But there’s always beauty in the struggle.