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22 Until None

Clean Your House by John Fannin (Git Moar Betterer)


That’s it. That’s the message for today. So I can just stop right here, right? Well as our favorite video about the end of the world states in the very beginning of said video;


“WRAAOONG!!!”.


I want to put this out there for those of you who haven’t been following along and I want to be very careful in how I word it. Because the truth of the matter, is as a leader, not just the leader of my household, but simply as someone who wants to do what is right no matter what. I failed. Only me. I was responsible for being the epitome of selflessness, love and gentleness, and I was absolutely 100% not, for quite a lengthy period of time too. At least 3 years, probably pretty much 4 years by now.


Almost a year ago, Sarah, my wonderful kind, compassionate, beautiful and loving wife left me. Because I was a bully. I’ve talked about how being right was an addiction, it was embedded so deeply within my soul that I couldn’t see I was pushing away the most wonderful and best thing that has happened to me, this side of Heaven.



You thought I was proud rowing the ocean, HA! My friend Ben knows exactly how much I love Sarah, he posts the photo of me seeing her walk down the aisle and I was nothing but tears of joy. How radiant. How beautiful. How lucky was I to marry such a beautiful person, not just because she’s a hottie with a rockin’ body, but because shewas good in her core, her soul. She overflowed with loving kindness. But as we all know, I didn’t love myself. So I didn’t see it. And anything she did could and would set me off on either a long winded condescending lecture or I’d raise the volume of my voice to what you might expect someone to do during a gunfight. I was lucky. I was blessed. And I was ignorant of how easily these blessings could be lost due to my own for lack of a better term, bullshit.


Here I was, berating and bullying herlike she was a fresh off the bus boot Marine. Yelling.

Screaming.

Sarcasm.

Condescension.

Interrupting.

Guilt Tripping.

Controlling.

Manipulating.

I’m guilty of all of them and I’m saying it here so everyone knows exactly how far I’d fallen.

I long to be accountable. Hold me to a standard. A realistic one please, but a standard nonetheless. If I act “less than”, I expect my wife, friends and loved ones to let me know I’m being a prick.

I never necessarily intended to be a bully, it just happened because I let life, like the accumulation of stuff aka garbage, stuff I didn’t need, in my house that you’ll read about, pile up. I convinced myself and most everyone else that my PTS was dealt with and over, but it wasn’t. I’d been underemployed, unemployed for a total of 16 months over the last 5 years, or working for a boss that was decidedly immoral, abusive, dishonest, and a manipulative. It all piled up.

And who paid the price? Sarah.

Who should have paid the price? John.

My pride, my arrogance, my ego…led me to believe others were the problem and it was my job to fix them and I’m an easy going guy, just as long as you do things in roughly the kind of way I want them done…therein lay a sinister problem. It’s not my job to tell people how to do things unless they come to me and ask me. By signing up for this blog/newsletter whatever you want to call it, you’ve all come to me. You’ve said “We value your perspective.” But if someone does not come to me and ask, then I should probably just shut up. I got myself into even more trouble because I was good with words, I could talk my way out of almost anything and make it sound logical, reasonable and appropriate.

She did the right thing. I was sick. I was in a downward spiral of anger, hate, regret, self loathing, self pity and desperate attempts to hold onto an identity that had long since passed. She needed to get out of the house for her own mental and emotional safety. And she was and will forever be right for doing so.

Afterwards, I wallowed in anger and pity for almost nine months. I would get angry at the drop of a hat. Yell, scream. All the things that caused her to leave in the first place. And yet, I was a fool. Because that’s the very thing that drove her away.

I don’t know what the future holds for us as of this writing, but I do have a lesson to pass on. So that you, if you find yourself repeating the mistakes I did, maybe you can save your marriage before it’s too late.

After she left, I was defiantly suicidal. And I felt very justified in such. Despite my youth, I’ve done, seen, and accomplished quite a few things. I was fond of saying that “I’ve lived more in thirty some odd years than most people would in two lifetimes.” So I felt that after cancer had ripped my self image to shreds and I’d alienated the one person who cared about me more than anything else, maybe it was my time to die.

Due to my openness about my desire to die. Police were called and I was forced to go to a mental health hospital against my will. There, the doctor assigned to me was verbally abusive and abrasive, and my case managers were ambivalent. Despite some of the good things that came from those 7 days, I was angry still. I wanted to file a report with the state medical board, I wanted to start a lawsuit with a dear friend who’s only crime was caring about me enough to make me mad.

What does this have to do with houses John? You’re rambling again.

I know I know. But it’s important you understand the depth of my despair so you can grasp the immensity of the victory that is within sight.

See, the whole time this had been going on, which according to Sarah, I’d been getting worse long before the cancer hit and when it did, straw…well maybe not straw, maybe ton of bricks that broke the camels back…my house was a mess.

After she left, for nine months, my house was a mess. Dust on everything. An accumulation of stuff that made me sick to my stomach thinking I was a hoarder, we just have so much stuff, it drove me quite probably literally insane for a time. The house was dark because I was going to do to my house what I wanted and so I painted the walls a deep blue. It darkened the house. It began to darken my soul. I hadn’t swept. I wasn’t keeping up with laundry. I was eating fast food, not cooking at home. I was watching tons of pornography. Everything in my house was a reflection of the downward dark spiral that I was on.

Now, let’s move to when I returned from my sailing adventure. My room is clean, my bathroom is the cleanest it’s been since I bought the house and moved in. My bedroom is rearranged to get more natural light and more room for activities. My garage gym is gorgeous and clean. My kitchen, my pantry all clean, and I’m cooking between 1-3 healthy meals a week. My walls are now white, illuminating the room. The depressing grey painted fireplace is now almost done being shiplap-ed. We’ve thrown away tons of trash and stuff that I’d just simply accumulated. Donated a ton of clothes to goodwill/thrift stores.

As all of these things began to take place, my heart began to grow lighter. I’m nowhere near perfect and who I was last week is evidence enough of that. But it is getting easier and easier to let things go and to be at peace. My house is cleaner and somehow through the process my soul started to get cleaner too. Now I exercise 5 days a week. Walk my dog every single day. I’ve already said the cooking thing. I’ve picked up my guitar and started to play again. I’ve been reading more and more each day.

Clean your house, clean your soul.

Where we live, how we live says so much about who we are and what we’re going through. You could walk in my house as someone who’s never heard of any sort of anything about mental health and you’d say “Wow, whoever lives here must be absolutely miserable.”

And you’d be right. I was. It was evident in HOW I was living, that I had a lack of respect for myself, my wife, and others who cared about me. I was the problem and for the longest time and occasionally even now, I have to be reminded to get out of my own way. To take the garbage out.

I was merely surviving before.

Today, as I write this, I’m thriving. I love my life. I love the role that I get to play in so many people’s lives as an encourager. My mother always told me that I was a great encourager, and I never really believed it until now. I love seeing you succeed. I love being open and honest about my life so that others may not step into the snares of negativity that I did.

Clean your house, clean your soul.

Life may still not work out for me the way I want. I may still suffer many of the consequences that I’ve rightly earned. But as I wrote yesterday, even if…even if the worst should come to pass. I know, I will be ok. Because I know how to get out of the hole. I clean my house. I take care of my body, it’s the only one I have. I want to be 58 years old giving my (hopefully children happen for me) 17 year old son a run for his money in the-40 yard dash.

Even if the worst should come to pass, I will clean my house, I will clean my soul.Even if I never become a father, I’m still going to be the best uncle any of my friends kids could ever want.Even if I end up single and alone, I will not return to pornography.Even if all of these things and more, I will clean my house, and clean my soul.

It seems so dumb. Clean your house, clean your soul. But it works. Every time a room in my house gets cleaned out and organized, I experience the most incredible feeling of elation. I get to come home to a nice house. I get to come home to a clean house. I get to cook healthy meals for me. I get to spend quality time with Obi.Clean your house, clean your soul. I promise you it works.

Be well, live real, leaders lead.


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