I sat in my car screaming. Screaming for help. Screaming for it to be over. Screaming to a God I didn’t believe in.
I'm not a screamer so this wasn't a good sign. Even if I was a screamer… this still isn’t a good sign.
That was a year ago.
Yesterday I got depressed again. Classic cliche alone during the holidays bullshit. Nothing big, but no fun. Then suddenly my year flashed before my eyes.
I had no reason to be sad. This year was fucking incredible and next year will be better. If you feel stuck or defeated I implore you to keep reading.
A few months after almost ending my life, I played at the Beacon Theater, a venue I have dreamt of playing since I was a gritty open-mic comedian in NYC. I arm-wrestled Tulsi Gabbard and opened for Duncan Trussle whose Netflix show brought me out of my COVID depression. Tulsi introduced me to Cornell West, the first guy who made me think, “Maybe Jesus is cool.” as we hugged like long-lost brothers. All of us spent that night laughing madly.
I have been training with Tim Kennedy. Yes, THAT Tim Kennedy, special forces, UFC, etc. And yes, THAT me, a 5 foot 7 emo comedian who had never shot a gun before this year (but to be fair am very good at jiujitsu). The dude is practically mentoring me and is surrounding me with other good men that I want to model my life after, something I never had before.
I finally know the kind of husband I want to be. The kind of father I can be. The kind of man I will fight to be.
I found God and got baptized. (That will be another blog post entirely but WOAH God amiright?!)
I got healthy, and I started a new mental health comedy podcast called Advice Not Taken which is helping thousands of people deal with their broken bullshit.
Most importantly, I have been serving. Teaching kids, volunteer work, and feeding the homeless downtown. Things I never thought I could do. Things that Jesus fella did and I thought, “I want to be like that.”
But not then.
Then - I’m screaming in a car that I was gonna have to sell later that week. I’m pounding a steering wheel on a dark street corner in Austin with nowhere to go. I’m thinking about the knife I left on the kitchen counter as the tunnel vision kicks in.
I had just lost everything and I can’t catch my breath. I’ve been here before but in your 20s it makes sense. It's part of the song. Everyone is suicidal in their 20s! Now I'm 40.
A much sadder song.
Both times, if I’m being honest, what stopped me wasn’t someone telling me I have so much to live for. It shamefully wasn’t thinking about how my death would affect others.
The truth is, I didn’t kill myself cause I thought I would screw it up. You don't want to be the news story of, "That guy who couldn't even kill himself right…" I would be the one who tied the noose wrong, then fell and broke both of his legs. My next ten years would be sadly trying to wheel myself into traffic.
But this was my second chance! My second chance at no more chances!
I like to set the bar as low as humanly possible so then I can fly.
I felt trapped, I felt out of options, I felt broken, I felt shame, but I also… didn’t really want to die. I just wanted to disappear. I wanted answers. If I were in the healthy place I am now I probably would have looked up a meditation retreat, but back then I jumped to suicide. A retreat of sorts albeit not a popular or highly Yelp-reviewed one.
As weird as this sounds, when your life is trash, suicide almost seems like a relief. Like when you remember where your keys are. OH, I didn’t look by the dresser. I can just kill myself! YAY!
I know many of you have felt that. Maybe you are feeling that right now. But I’m here to tell you that the fight is what makes the human. Suicide is the easy quit.
You know how you think you’ll feel good skipping the gym? Then 5 breakfast tacos, a Pornhub bender, and one shame nap later you hate yourself? Not great. Have you ever felt bad after going to the gym?
Exactly.
Staying in the fight, knowing you are even in a fight, getting back up and swinging with everything you have, that’s where it’s fucking at.
Back then I didn’t want to build myself back up. I didn’t want to help others. I just wanted all the noise to shut off so I could be still.
I gave life it the old college try. I really did. I made it through dropping out of high school, living out of my car, heartbreak, being the breaker of hearts, divorce, Twitter mobs, broken promises, and more. I had survived a lot and had finally gotten my life on the right track, and then it happened, I have nothing. Again.
I’m tapping. Fuck the fight.
How I got from that car to writing this today I don’t know.
There was a farm in Hawaii. There was sobbing on the floor of my fight gym hugging my coaches and feeling loved. There was the air mattress of a couple I barely knew who brought me to church for the first time. There was a drive from Austin to DC to NYC and back to Austin. There were choices. From little to big. What do I want my life to look like? How do I show myself, love? What books do I read? What podcasts do I listen to? Do I drink? Do I hook up? Where do I live? How do you pray? How do I define being happy? What can I add to this world? What are my morals?
Every day is a choose your own adventure to become the person you can be proud of.
There was no ONE moment.
I wasn’t lying in a gutter and an angel came down and whispered, “Jamie, go back to the island.” (I still like LOST shut up.)
Tulsi didn’t give me a job as her chief of staff after saying, “I see something in ya kid!”
In fact, I may have less money right now than I did back then.
It was one step at a time. My friend Dustin Rhodes (OH THATS RIGHT I GOT TO PRO WRESTLE WITH DUSTIN RHODES!) says, “Keep Steppin’.”
That’s it, man. What I did you can do.
There are moments in your life when you get to choose. Do I let this break me or do I use it to make me stronger? Once you make that choice a switch flips.
So instead of killing myself, for the first time, I decided to live. I decided to make every day about becoming the best person I could be. Keep Steppin’.
If you live your life with joy, love, and gratitude and not “How is the world gonna FUCK ME today?!” you see that everything is happening for a reason. Some good, and some to get you back on track.
I’m still here. And you’re still here. And we were brought here, to you reading this, probably in between flipping through dating apps and shit posting about Andrew Tate on Twitter, but still reading this.
If I can make it, you can make it.
I was a mess. I still am a mess, I’m weird, I’m indecisive, I’m a manic pixie dream girl but a boy, I am TERRIBLE with authority, I pet people’s dogs without talking to the owner first, I’m awkward in social situations, I over think, I then get jealous if the stranger’s dog lets another stranger pet him, there are so many things I’m working on (many dog related) but working on improving something is different than surrendering to it.
Being the guy that just says, “Sorry bro I’m just the black-out, drunk dude! Or, “I’m the jealous one!” or “My life is always just going to suck.” Fuck that. Stop defining yourself by your bullshit. Stop giving yourself an excuse to be mediocre when the truth is you could be spectacular.
So misfits, outcasts, and maniacs let’s fucking go. Let’s stop letting other people, and online tribes define us, let’s stop defining ourselves by what we don’t have. Let’s stop waking up every day in a panic and start waking up ready for an adventure.
The best day of your life could be the day after you almost ended it. I know mine was.
If you liked this check out my mental health comedy podcast Advice not Taken w/Jamie Kilstein HTTP://jamiekilsteinpodcast.com and subscribe here to get more writing.