Finding Myself, Losing Myself
The breakthrough that almost broke me - My Story Part 4
So after discovering that letting go of the rope with fear and anxiety was just the first layer, I found myself facing the deeper question: what do you do when the real problem isn’t what you’re running from, but who you think you are? Well, naturally, I did what any 26-year-old guy would do...
I applied to university. To study theology. Despite leaving the church and abandoning a lot of the beliefs, I still had a keen interest in religion and God. And I enjoyed thinking about all this and had done for most of my life. So it made most sense to me at the time, to study it at university. I had no idea how I would use this degree in the future, but it didn’t bother me. I was led by my interests and enjoyment of the subject.
And the reason I decided to study in the first place was... well... because it was something to do, I guess. This was, yeah, another decision which made no sense, but which I pursued with much vigour and enthusiasm, regardless. So I applied and got an offer from Aberdeen University in Scotland, which I swiftly accepted and started preparing for.
That summer, I had an opportunity to work on a big project in Manchester, installing data, which I threw myself into and worked as many hours as possible. I hesitate to repeat myself and sound obvious, but I will simply say: in this period, work was the new form of escape. As with McDonald’s many years before. But it was also handy for earning good money—all the more helpful as I’d recently been scammed and lost all my savings of nearly £6,000.
The end of the job was timed perfectly as I headed up to Aberdeen the following week to start the new adventure of university. Of being a student. It’s fair to say this gave me a sense of purpose and identity, which I noticed I’d been seeking for many years. And it felt good.
I’d learnt that questioning what I was doing often led me to giving up and quitting and not enjoying it. And it ended up with this spiral of questioning everything. So by this point, I realised I should stop doing this because it made me feel shit. But what I didn’t understand was that the questions themselves weren’t the issue. It was more the conclusions I came to. I often saw my life as lacking and myself as inadequate, which meant I was constantly seeking some new purpose and identity that could hopefully fill this void I felt.
And although I learnt acceptance and letting go in terms of fear and anxiety, I’d yet to realise I could apply this here as well. That I didn’t have to be controlled by this sense of lack and being lost and not being good enough. But at this time, I used the same tactics I’d used for the fear previously, which was to ignore it, to suppress it, and to make it go away by any means possible. This meant: stop the questioning and just do something—whatever looks like it could offer purpose and identity. Thus, university, studying, being a student.
I think it’s fair to say that my first year at university was a year of two halves. I say a year, but each term or semester was about three months, so I did around half a year.
Anyway, for the first semester, I met a bunch of exchange students from across Europe and spent most of the time doing activities with them in and around the university, as well as lots of day trips and weekends travelling through Scotland. I did this as well as the a cappella group, calisthenics society, yoga, cricket—when I wasn’t at lectures, tutorials, or studying for exams and writing essays. I also took a two-week trip to New Zealand during this time for a friend’s wedding.
Even just writing this, I can’t quite believe I had any time for sleeping and eating, but thankfully, I did. It’s fair to say I didn’t have much time to think about myself and what I was doing, so I generally felt pretty good. The “not questioning” seemed to be working.
But as with every other time like this in my life, it came to an end, and I was at home for Christmas. Away from university and all the friends I’d made, all the noise and chaos of the first term. Just me, myself, and I. Having completed all my assignments before Christmas, I had a whole month of... well, not a lot, really.
And this time I actually didn’t fill my time and days with entertainment. That year, 2024, I had decided to quit it all, and I actually mostly did. There was the odd day or few hours that I’d get lost in YouTube, but nothing like before, and I was super proud of myself. I’m not really sure what happened to make me stop all of a sudden, but I guess I’d had enough and saw that I had a problem and told myself: this means no more. No more video games, no wrestling, no bingeing TV shows or films or YouTube.
I did still watch the occasional show with family or YouTube video or film at the cinema, but on the whole, I stopped. The cycle and pattern was broken, and I’ve not relapsed since. I say it was broken, but although I stopped one form of this, I think the underlying cause was still there. And this is what started to be revealed to me during my winter break at the beginning of 2025.
Ever since starting my first blog back in 2023, and even much before this, I journalled on and off. Never very consistently, or if it was, only for a few weeks—like many things over the years. However, that month I initiated something in me that continued for most of the year and is still going today. I restarted my meditation practice, doing one hour every morning. I started running again. I wrote every day. I read or listened to something meaningful and helpful for me each day.
I think the thing that sparked this in me was the first term as a whole and the contrast to being at home with lots of stillness and silence. Knowing that most of the friends I’d made wouldn’t be returning when I was, as they were only on exchange for one term. And one girl in particular who I grew quite close to and spent a lot of time with in those three months. She returned to Germany along with the others. I have not seen her since and really had much contact with her.
And this is what made that month one of the hardest periods of my life. And without the distractions of endless consumption, I did something which still amazes me even now and I’m incredibly proud of. I learnt to process the thoughts and feelings I was experiencing.
I have to say this may have been one of the hardest periods, if not the hardest period of my life so far, and yet it sparked a real, huge breakthrough for me. It was genuinely an emotional rollercoaster, and yet I started to trust the process of healing. Trusting that I was okay, and this was all helping me to heal and to grow. And it really did.
I started to learn and understand that I no longer had to run from these difficult emotions and thoughts—the same that I’d learnt with fear and anxiety previously. And instead, I could feel them deeply and accept them as part of my inner healing journey and what it meant to grow.
Now it didn’t make it any easier, and my tendency is still to get rid of it initially. But I then remember I don’t need to. And I don’t want to get rid of it and push it away. I now see all these emotions, feelings, thoughts as helpful and as opportunities to accept, to let go, to learn, and to grow.
It was also the first real period where I allowed time and space for deep thinking and reflection and journalling, which really helped me start to see and understand these patterns I’ve been highlighting in this story. It really allowed me to go deeper than the emotions and the thoughts to get a little glimpse into why I’d been stuck for so many years. To see the escaping and avoiding mechanisms and realise they were seeking for external fulfilment—whether that was through work, people, or travel, etc. And I started applying the practice of acceptance and letting go to all of it.
So I returned to Aberdeen at the end of January 2025 to begin my second term of my first year at university. It’s fair to say this was the complete opposite of my first term. I had a lot less friends, and this time they weren’t exchange students. And I did a lot less stuff. I returned having learnt and grown so much, and I wanted to continue this. So I decided to be content with less—less doing, less people, less stuff.
I kept certain practices of running, meditating, journalling, walking, reflecting alongside what I had to do with uni work and studying. I also went along to a few groups and hung out with a few friends. I had a lot more time and space for myself, which I saw as good, and it enabled me to continue the deep inner work I’d begun and allow the healing process.
I learnt how to be with myself and, for the first time, to actually enjoy it. Not having to do something to escape myself or the thoughts, emotions, or reality. I could sit and be content, be grateful, and be happy. And I started to learn I didn’t need to do stuff to enjoy life, to enjoy the experience, and to enjoy the moment.
I completed this second term, and therefore my first year of university. And I was a lot calmer and more relaxed than when I began. I think it’s fair to say it was like I was a different person—or maybe I’d say I’d become more myself, my true self.
And then came summer. No, not the name of a girl, but the season. The time of year when life is buzzing all around us and everything is in full bloom. The season with so much energy, life, and laughter. Long summer days full of warmth, beauty, and light. Fun in the sun.
And the summer of 2025 would certainly put to the test my newfound sense of calm, ease, and rest. It would challenge everything I’d been learning and the journey I was on and almost completely derail it.
Just when I thought I’d finally found the answer—when I believed I’d become the person I was meant to be—life had other plans. Sometimes the biggest tests come not when we’re struggling, but when we think we’ve got it all figured out...