Discontentment, Dreams & Dad.
My name is Ethan, and 4 weeks ago, my father suddenly passed away.
I’m sad to say that even at the time I didn’t expect him to live through the year, but I honestly didn’t expect him to die within the first two weeks of it. Since then, I’ve not returned to work. The three hours a night I spent at the gym have ceased. I have nightmares even more regularly than usual, I sleep between the hours of 5am and 5pm, and I find my already quite negative view of the world has gotten considerably worse.
When I consider why, I’m compelled to believe that it’s down to the fact that I see people, day after day, wasting their lives, and as my Dad just lost his it really doesn’t seem fair. What’s worse is that I can’t help but feel I’m wasting mine. The irony behind all this is that my Dad actually did waste his life, by his own admission. He was the most intelligent, talented man I ever met, and it went nowhere, for various reasons I’ll not delve into here. The difference between us is that at my age, he actually had achieved quite a lot, he just never did anything productive with it post-30 years of age. Just unemployment and alcoholism. That said, the last 5 years together were the best we’d ever had because he had truly changed. I miss him terribly.
I’m 22 years and 8 months old. I don’t have a degree, I’m stuck in a dead end job, and my recent application to the police failed at the second stage. It’s worth noting, before I continue, that my dream career is that of a Policeman. As such, I fully intend to apply again, with a greater emphasis on actually passing.
What bothers me is that I don’t feel I’ve ever actually achieved anything. As I say, I’ve no degree (I dropped out of University during the first semester of my second year, because I loathed it.). I’ve no children. I’m not married (though I do have a beautiful girlfriend with whom I’m deeply in love.). I’m not rich, or even particularly financially stable, and I live each day feeling genuinely miserable, at home, with my two brothers and Mum. Whilst I’ll concede that being married with children at my age makes very little sense, I suppose what I’m getting at is that I don’t have any of those things that give my life any semblance of meaning or purpose. If I was to suddenly die tomorrow, as my Dad did, I would have left almost no mark on the world.
At 23, Orson Welles had his face on Time magazine. Truman Capote wrote his first novel. Stevie Wonder wrote “Higher Ground”. At 24, Nelly Bly traveled around the world in less than 80 days, and Tracy Chapman released her first, multi-award winning album. At 25, Charlie Chaplin had starred in 35 films, and Orson Welles had written, directed and starred in Citizen Kane, one of the most celebrated films of all time. These are all achievements that were a huge part of what defined these people, and they were achieved before they were even trigenarians.
A good question, one that would be fair to ask, would be “What exactly would you like to have achieved by now?”. I suppose I’m not really sure. I have dreams. I’ve always wanted to travel, for example; see the world and all it’s wonders and beauty. Unfortunately, I’ve never left Britain. This is one of the many examples, as I see them, of my failings.
If I could pick anything to be, I would be rich. I know that sounds shallow, but bear with me; I’m not saying this so that I can live it up like something out of an MTV reality show. I’m saying it because of the power money holds. Those who have it control those who need it, and it’s always been this way. Whilst I have absolutely no desire to control anybody (and I can’t stress that enough), I would like to be able to free myself, and those I love, of the shackles that a lack of money inevitably brings. I’d like to live without fear or limits, and use that power to help people.
Now, obviously I would indulge; I’d be lying out of my hind-quarters if I tried to claim otherwise. That aside, I’d use the money to find purpose in my life, because a lack of monetary limits provides you with a great deal of scope.
Since I was a nipper, I’ve always wanted to help people. Back then, it was in the form of a superhero. Then it was a doctor. Then it was a teacher. Now it’s a police officer. I can’t help but think, however, that even in these roles, I wouldn’t feel like I was doing enough. I like to do good deeds. I like to make people smile. I like to help people. If I was rich, I could do all this with ease. I could set up the foster home I’ve so often thought about. I could start up a homeless shelter. I could travel the world using my money to change lives. That’s what I want my life to be about. So much so, that if it didn’t require money, I’d do it just as quickly.
That is why, dear readers, I’m currently experiencing an overwhelming wave of discontentment. I’ve never changed a life. I’ve never been able to truly help somebody. There are many tragedies in this world, but one of the most egregious to me is that with all the luxuries living in the first world affords me (for which I’m eternally grateful), I don’t feel like I can utilise them in a way that makes any real difference.
The fact is, I am blessed, and I’d like to be able to share that. My dad was 50% of the reason I’m here. I figure I owe it to him to make him proud.