I've got a lot going on right now - certainly more urgent matters than the importance of friendship. In fact, I've really pulled away from most social interaction in recent years, choosing instead to focus on work and home life. I still get lunch or drinks with a friend every once in a while, but that's about it. I’m going through some particularly difficult stuff, both at work and at home, and I could really use a friend. The hard truth is, if you neglect a part of your life, you can’t be surprised when it withers away.

I find these days that my social circle is extremely small, and I have what I’d consider to be negative or disappointing interactions with other people on a routine basis. I often walk away from these transactions feeling frustrated, slighted, etc. I feel like I’m in constant conflict with the world around me. I consider my current situation to be nothing short of a crisis. Unresolved conflict has overtaken every area of my life: my marriage and family, business, friendships as well as my interactions with the general public.

If I'm being honest, things have been turning around for me lately in terms of being a local performer. My tips have really improved. There has been a surge in private party bookings. My first headlining opportunity as a full band went very well. As such, it feels a little uncomfortable to complain, so keep in mind that this is a holistic examination of my experiences. Regarding the recent improvements, my attitude and outlook have changed somewhat, but I really have done very little to change my act or my level of professionalism. Some of it is probably timing. I would have to attribute much of it to preparing this blog series and really examining my career as a musician. This will be the second installment of my 3-part series on the unglamorous life of the local musician.

It's catchy, right? This was the title of the documentary idea that started me on the road to launching my own production company. I got the idea for the film after 4 years of earning a living as a full time local performer. At first I planned to explore the behind-the-scenes aspects of both the work and the lifestyle. I discovered along the way that I also wanted to examine how it all overlapped with life in the ministry world. As I developed the idea in 2011-12, the project kept growing and growing in scope to the point where it could no longer be captured in one feature film.  

The countdown sequence has begun. The mission could still be scrubbed, but soon I believe we will be go for launch. With the sale of our home currently under way, my focus is now divided between the closing and what lies beyond. For years we worked and saved in preparation for this departure, but the mission isn’t exactly going as planned. Instead of building a custom home featuring an 800 sq. ft. standalone studio, we’re moving in with my in-laws. Naturally, in times like these, I will often re-examine those events and decisions which brought me to a particular plot point in my life.

Yesterday morning, as I awoke and lay there in my bed, I immediately became overwhelmed. Just knowing that it was New Year's Eve, reflecting back on the difficulty of the year, I felt so heavy. Now, I’m sure part of the heaviness I felt was in my waistline, for I spared no donut last year. Seriously, though… Even now, as I sit at my desk on this first day of a fresh new year, I continue to feel… heavy.

My 36th birthday is on the horizon. As this seemingly insignificant day approaches, different things come to mind. Are we going to have more children soon? How am I doing with financial goals? Business plans? I can’t help but feel I’m ignoring the elephant in the room - and by elephant, I mean me. I was 18 when I first started to pack on body fat. Turning 36 means that I've spent half my life skinny, and the second half downright porky. I still look at my soggy waistline in the mirror today and say, subconsciously, "That's not me. I'm actually skinny. I just need to drop the weight and get back to the real Corey!" Honestly, it's delusional. 

Last month marked 3 years since my wife and I walked away from Healing Place Church. I knew that I would eventually need to tell my story before I could truly move on from it. This turned out to be challenging, at times painful, but ultimately a cathartic process. Most of the memories that would keep me up at night have now been shared. I could continue to reveal more, but doing so wouldn't serve much purpose and would most likely devolve into pure mudslinging. 

“Nothing personal…” I’ve always found this to be sort of a platitude, and a vexing one at that. People say it all the time when they don’t really mean it. While it’s true that some people are more prone than others to take things to heart, I would argue that most things are at least a little bit personal. The business and personal aspects of life are hopelessly intertwined. Even if you lose your job in a “last in, first out” scenario, it’s still very personal to lose the situation that allowed you to provide for your needs; for your family’s needs. 

This is a difficult story to tell because it’s complicated. I didn’t spend 17 years actively pursuing a ministry career at Healing Place Church. In actuality, I had competing priorities; things like work, college, touring, my overall health, personal life and a number of personal tragedies all vying for my attention. There were periods during which I was highly focused on Healing Place, but this was somewhat sporadic. If my singular focus in life had been to develop a ministry platform, I either would have found a way to make it work at HPC, or I would have moved on. 

I’ve experienced some pretty intense humiliation in my life. I don’t know where my experiences fall on the spectrum of human shame, but I can say that some memories still provoke a strong physical response. 

I’ve been publicly bullied and, at times, forced to defend myself against multiple aggressors. In high school, I contracted mono and had to stay home from school for a while. I made no arrangements to complete my school work from home. I failed every class that semester. I’ve walked away from college no less than 3 times without finishing my B.A. Struggling in school carries a big stigma, and it doesn't matter whether it's for academic or emotional reasons. I’ve been fired from jobs, both justly and unjustly. I’ve been falsely accused, lied about more times than I can recall. I’ve gotten really excited about a new idea, spoken about it too soon, and then not followed through. I've tried a lot of things and failed.

Frankly, all of this ambiguity surrounding the name change was starting to get to me. My mom had always said that she had picked the name "Corey" for me. If anything, she would have tried to persuade me to keep it. Toward the end of their marriage, she explained, Mom was just too psychologically beat down to deny me something I supposedly wanted. Still, I have absolutely no memory of ever disliking my name. To make matters worse, Mom's timeline seemed a bit off as well. I distinctly remember living in our home on Ellis Ave when all of this took place, and not our next home as she'd suggested.