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| Artwork "Taking Chances" by Gina Shleif |
Growing up,
teachers would always tell me that I was a good writer, but my sense of
self-worth would trick me into thinking they were lying. I was a miserable teen
and I would journal as a means of venting, but besides that my writing
experience was limited to basic homework assignments and book reports.
I never did enjoy
school, it was just something else my parents would yell about. I did the
absolute minimum to get by until I was ushered on to the next grade level. I
was interested in the kind of topics they didn’t seem to teach in high school:
Psychology, philosophy, spirituality.
I just drifted
like that through high school until one day at the beginning of my senior year,
I literally ran into the AP English teacher on my way to class. Books and
papers went flying every which way and as we scurried about to pick up the
mess, he happened to take notice of my chosen reading material: Plato’s
Republic, An Introduction to Jungian Psychology, Shakespeare’s Sonnets, and the
Bhagavad Gita.
“We’re studying those in my class.”
He gestured to the sonnets. “Why aren’t you with us?” he asked.
My answer was
because I had never considered myself an AP student. Most of them had been in some
sort of honors program for the majority of their education, and AP was something
you had to test into. I hadn’t taken any tests, so I just looked at him
quizzically.
I told him that I
would love to be in a class where they studied pieces such as these, and that
the English teacher I was stuck with refused to spend any of his time
discussing them with me because they weren’t part of his curriculum.
The teacher paused for a second as
a thought flashed through his face, and he told me to make an appointment with
my academic counselor. By the end of the week, I found myself transferred into
his classroom.
I was never a
model student, but his class was always enjoyable and at the end of the year, I
was one of only three students who passed the AP English exam. I fully
considered myself to be the underdog, and this victory meant the world to me.
It allowed me to finally admit that maybe I was good at something. This
breakthrough lead me into the direction of perusing English at the local
community college. I enjoyed myself there until the turbulence of migraines and
panic attacks hit, with which came the dissociation of my limbs, which is
apparently one of the many elusive symptoms of anxiety, and the very act of writing
would trigger an attack. And so I laid down my pen, and I left college.
After I turned
twenty-one, I spent the next couple of years coping with alcohol. I gained sixty
pounds in about six months and continued to shamelessly self-destruct. My
health began to decline overall, and by the age of twenty three I was
pre-diabetic.
One night, the
shit hit the fan and I found myself at rock bottom. I could not believe the
person I had become, the things I had done, bridges I had burned, I gazed back
the mess I had created in the wake of my descent. It must have been then that I
had a fleeting moment that snapped me out of denial. I am grateful for that
moment, facing myself and emerging from denial has been one of the hardest
things I have ever done. Owning my decisions, but also moving forwards, to heal.
I could still lead a meaningful, happy and contented life, but my behavior had
to change, and so did my mind. My journey towards wellness began at that
moment.
I really have come
so far. Cultivating self-love, learning self-care, giving my-self respect.
Exercising my will power and my body. I am discovering who I am. I am a spirit who
enjoys being in her physical form: a woman filled with gratitude. I can now finally
accept my gifts, and begin to cultivate them for the first time in my life. And
one of those things that I am, is a writer. And I will honor that part of
myself and invite you all to witness.
This is why I must
blog. It is different than writing for the sake of writing. It motivates me to
continue to walk the walk of being in self-care while serving a double purpose
of motivating others along the way. I am daring to be vulnerable by sharing my
process but also my humble hope is that I may inspire others to do the same. We
live in some strange disillusioned times, and I want my pen to be part of the
shifting tide that is our newparadigm. And my intention for anyone who comes
across this blog is that they find the courage to be the expression of their
true self. It’s okay to be vulnerable, forget the haters, let’s just be
ourselves so that we may heal the world.
