From the time I roll out of bed each morning, until I crawl back in at night, I experience moments of doubt, often paralyzing, all day long. Of all my underlying psychological disorders, doubt tops the list.
Doubts about everything.
My doubts are like landmines, buried in indiscernible patterns and scattered throughout my days. Sometimes I have to hit my doubts pretty hard before they explode. Other times though, they trigger with barely a touch.
It usually begins with the ones I love.
I’ll just be moving along, seemingly in a peaceful day, when suddenly I hit a doubt.
I’ll take a look at my mom, for example, and out of nowhere I’ll begin to question the ways I care for her. I’ll think about all the things I could be doing better on her behalf, but don’t. Then I’ll think about all the things I could do better in future, but know I won’t.
The shock of that concussion might keep in a fog for hours, despite my need to function as a businessman and as a caregiver. Eventually, it’ll give way to more peaceful moments. But then, the next one…
In the course of a day, I’ll doubt I’m a good businessman.
I’ll doubt I’m a good steward for my pets.
I’ll doubt I’m a good friend.
I’ll doubt I’m a good father.
I’ll doubt I’m a good neighbor.
And in a week’s time, I’ll question most every decision I made that week and wonder why I don’t put more effort into making better decisions more often — and take better actions.
Where these doubts come from and why they show up when they do, I can’t say. And this isn’t a ‘woe is me’ party. I wouldn’t wish these feelings on anyone. When these doubts strike it can be hard to breathe, hard to move forward in the day, and they’re always accompanied by sadness. Sometimes the sadness is subtle. Other times it’s overwhelming.
And then there’s the greatest doubt of all — whether or not even exist. And if I do exist, how much control do I really have over any of these actions and inactions which I spend so much time doubting…? Those doubts can knock me off my feet.
My doubts control me like a pimp.
By the time I walk out the front door with a bike in one hand and a helmet in the other, I’ll have experienced a handful of doubt explosions, each doing a little more damage to my psyche. Is that damage is permanent…? I don’t know. I only know that the older I get, the less I glow and the slower I move from all the mental contusions caused by doubts.
I get out on my bike and the doubts subside, if only for a while. I feel peace, exhilaration, and wonder. I don’t question anything and I enjoy everything. The days I feel the most doubt, are the days I tend to have the most meaningful rides. And if it weren’t for having to make a living, the most doubtful days would host my longest rides. I could ride for hours on a heavily doubtful day.
But all painkillers wear off, and so to does the bike ride. I’ll put the bike back in the stable and I’ll towel down. I’ll eat a handful of grapes and as I begin walking about my post-ride evening, I’ll walk on eggshells, everywhere I go, knowing at some point, I’ll trigger another doubt — I just never know when.
This is what I think about when I ride… Jhciacb
This week by the numbers…
Bikes Ridden: 7
Mph Avg: 15.1
Seat Time: 13 hours 36 minutes
Whether you ride a bike or not, thank you for taking the time to ride along with me today. If you haven’t already, please scroll up and subscribe. If you like what you read, give it a like and a share. If not, just keep scrollin’. Oh, and there’s this from Shuggie Otis. Enjoy…