I put every bit of my soul into escaping the mental torment of my past, my childhood. Through trials and tribulations, piece by piece, I managed to build a version of myself I could be proud of. I could not have done it alone - outside of my family, with the friendships I made and mentors I gained, I was able to experience a life that wasn't built on a foundation of guilt, shame, and self-loathing. I was on a rising trajectory that seemed limitless.
But the scars of my upbringing remained, and they never fully healed. Returning home for graduate school reopened these wounds, I incurred more wounds by indulging in alcohol, drugs, and risky behavior in a desperate attempt to stifle the reemergence of these wounds. And as such, my wounds became infected, and I became a vile version of myself.
I lashed out at loved ones, I publicly made an utter fool of myself, I belittled and demeaned the misunderstood. That limitless upward trajectory immediately took a downward turn, still plummeting to oblivion, and I lost everything that I gained that helped me escape torment the first time.
Now I live as the most wounded, scarred, eviscerated version of myself, absolutely void of the vitality, purpose, and gumption that was only available in my youth. And I am supposed to just, try again? Surely you jest. I can no longer trust the one person that could save me - myself.
Every day I am tortured by the sabotage I committed against myself. It is an unbearable
pain, knowing I was the one that ultimately ruined my chance at a good life. It feels like the death of a loved one is occurring in the next second and I can't stop it, and I feel this way every minute of every day. All of my energy is spent fending off this feeling, leaving me utterly exhausted each day, with nothing to show of it. From the outside, it may look as if I am just lazy, or indulging in and enjoying self-pitying myself. But I promise you, I am fighting a battle for my life.
And I'm losing.
But the scars of my upbringing remained, and they never fully healed. Returning home for graduate school reopened these wounds, I incurred more wounds by indulging in alcohol, drugs, and risky behavior in a desperate attempt to stifle the reemergence of these wounds. And as such, my wounds became infected, and I became a vile version of myself.
I lashed out at loved ones, I publicly made an utter fool of myself, I belittled and demeaned the misunderstood. That limitless upward trajectory immediately took a downward turn, still plummeting to oblivion, and I lost everything that I gained that helped me escape torment the first time.
Now I live as the most wounded, scarred, eviscerated version of myself, absolutely void of the vitality, purpose, and gumption that was only available in my youth. And I am supposed to just, try again? Surely you jest. I can no longer trust the one person that could save me - myself.
Every day I am tortured by the sabotage I committed against myself. It is an unbearable
pain, knowing I was the one that ultimately ruined my chance at a good life. It feels like the death of a loved one is occurring in the next second and I can't stop it, and I feel this way every minute of every day. All of my energy is spent fending off this feeling, leaving me utterly exhausted each day, with nothing to show of it. From the outside, it may look as if I am just lazy, or indulging in and enjoying self-pitying myself. But I promise you, I am fighting a battle for my life.
And I'm losing.
