Surviving Old Wounds: A Time Traveling Love Note

“You are too concerned about what was and what will be. There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the ‘present.'”

  -Master Oogway, ‘Kung Fu Panda’

The Present:

Christmas Eve a year ago, I wanted to die. All the parts of me that had learned that I was worthless, weak, and ugly had come to the surface, and I was ready to follow through. My own mental health was the worst it had ever been due to selling my best self to a failing marriage, a job I didn’t love, and attempting to find healing and understanding from people who either wouldn’t or couldn’t help me, just like when I was a child. Being an adult, and a therapist, I knew what I had to do, however painful and destructive that was. I needed to survive, for myself, and for my little girl. So I went to ground. I went back to Colorado to be amongst friends; People who knew me inside and out, ugly and beautiful, broken and perfect. And I survived. Lifted up by so many people who see my pain, believe me, and just love me.

Now, a year later, I’m not where I would like to be, but I’m MUCH better than I was a year ago. I am rebuilding, I have a plan, and I am stronger and wiser than I have ever been.

 

The Past:

When I was in sixth or seventh grade, I remember sitting in my room, staring out of my second-story window, wanting everything to change.  I thought intensely about throwing myself out of that window.

I remember wondering if I would always be in this much pain, and this alone.  I was being bullied every day at school, and would come home to a cold, distant, and sometimes violent father, a very angry older brother, and a mother doing her best amidst mental health and substance use disorders. I very much wanted everything to change, and in my fantasy of throwing myself out of my window, either I would die, or people would finally see that I needed help. I was alone. No one knew, or even was around to ask how I was; how I really was. Looking back, people certainly cared, but those people had their own things going on, and didn’t have the resources to see an 11-year-old boy slowly dying.

 

The Gift:

This post is a time traveling love note to that boy who made it through alone. He was never taught how to reach out, or that he even could. This is when he learned that he was useless, and the message that he would be all alone in his darkest times.  Even though he was suffering so deeply and in such an emotionally unsupported way, he rallied.

I love you, seventh grade Ryan, you little badass. 

You were faced with the potential for unending pain and fear through random abuse, yet you overcame.  You chose to keep living.  You helped me be a strong, sensitive man with an intimate view of what my clients struggle with every day.

You taught me the lesson of how strong people can be in the face of immeasurable pain.  You are stronger than this pain.  You are stronger than sorrow and abuse.

You are stronger than monsters.

I love you. Thank you.

(Relatively) Grown-Up Ryan