Seven Years Gone

I remember working.

I remember being tired.

But the memories in between? Almost nothing.

When I was younger, I hit a wall with debt. Nothing dramatic—just the kind that slowly weighs on you until every day feels like you’re falling behind.

One day I decided I was done feeling that way.

So I did what a lot of people do.

I went into grind mode.

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The Seven-Year Disappearance

During the day I worked a normal 40-hour job.

At night I worked for a courier company.

And when I say night, I mean whenever they called.

Eating dinner?

Get up.

Dead asleep at 3 a.m.?

Get up.

Just got home from an all-nighter?

Too bad. Get up again.

I drove all over Los Angeles delivering packages. Sometimes to places that sound interesting now—Janet Jackson’s house in Malibu, Tom Petty’s place, Courtney Love’s.

But at the time it didn’t feel glamorous.

It was just exhaustion wrapped in celebrity addresses.

Eventually I paid off the debt.

That part worked.

But something strange happened.

I didn’t stop.

I kept working. Seven days a week. Month after month. Year after year.

No savings plan. No real direction. Just moving from one shift to the next like I was stuck in a loop.

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The Friends I Slowly Lost

Meanwhile my friends in Hollywood were actually living.

They went to parties. Events. Interesting gatherings with people who had stories to tell.

They invited me constantly.

And every time I said the same thing.

“I can’t. I have to work.”

Eventually I told them something I regret saying even now:

“Don’t invite me anymore. I can’t go, and it just makes me feel bad.”

So they stopped calling.

They grew closer as a group. They went out. They experienced life.

And I worked.

One moment still bothers me.

A friend of mine was close with one of my all-time favorite musicians. One night she invited me to come hang out with them.

I said no.

Work.

A couple of months Later I saw pictures that friend at the musician’s place in England.

I should have gone when I was invited to hang out.

Hollywood was full of moments like that.

And I walked away from almost all of them.

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The Real Cost

The debt was already gone.

But I kept grinding anyway.

Those seven years now feel like a blur—a strange gap where memories should be.

Sometimes I wish I could step back into that version of myself and say:

“Stop. What are you doing?”

But I didn’t have that awareness then.

I wasn’t present.

I didn’t step back and ask whether the life I was building was actually the life I wanted.

What Finally Broke the Pattern

The thing that finally interrupted the cycle was meeting my wife and eventually moving to Japan.

During those seven years I had taken two short trips there. Those trips felt like brief moments of air after being underwater.

Meeting her—and moving—finally forced a change.

Even then, the grind mentality didn’t disappear overnight. When I first moved to Japan I still worked multiple jobs just to piece together a single income.

Once you live that way long enough, it’s hard to switch it off.

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Looking Back

When I think about those years now, I still don’t fully understand why I stayed stuck in that pattern for so long.

People say things like “be kind to yourself.”

But how do you do that when you’re not even aware of what you’re doing to yourself?

If I had stepped back for even a moment, I might have:

• saved some of the money I was making

• said yes to a few more experiences

• stayed closer to the people around me

Instead, I mostly have a cautionary story.

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Maybe This Helps Someone

If you’re deep in your own grind right now, maybe this is worth thinking about:

• Debt matters—but it shouldn’t take years of your life.

• Friends won’t always wait forever.

• Sometimes it’s worth asking: what am I actually doing this for?

I didn’t ask those questions.

Maybe you can.

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Have you ever had a stretch of life that feels like it just disapp

eared?

Hit reply and tell me about it. I read every response.

Until next time—

Try not to disappear.

— Neon