Sometimes it doesn't matter when you write something. Whether it was a few days ago or a few years ago, there are human experiences that simply transcend time and space.
Recently, I decided to quit one of my jobs to write full-time--to finish that damn book that I've been working on for the past 5 years. To write a book, the kind of book that I'm writing, requires me to excavate my past, which means digging into old pieces I've written throughout my twenties. Even though most of these experiences happened years ago, the story itself lives. And I only keep them alive to be used.
I wrote this 4 years ago, but this story will continue to live with me forever. This was when my life truly began when I met God at the bottom of a dark hole.
November 11. 2010
Today Your Life Begins
A friend of mine asked me to write a blog post based on this song, "Today My Life Begins" by Bruno Mars. As I listened to the song, I was taken back a little over two years ago. It was about five months after my Ex-boyfriend and I broke up. Although I had already packed up my stuff, moved out of our home and into an empty studio apartment by myself, we were still seeing each other off and on. Not only was our relationship (or whatever was left of it) an emotional roller coaster, my life had been operating on auto-pilot. Because I was living on autopilot and walking through life in a blurry haze, I oblivious to the depression that I had suppressed with artificial substances. I would occupy myself with work, numb myself with alcohol and distract myself with endless nights of partying. Every morning I would touch up my make-up from the night before and force on a smile on my melancholy face before walking out of the door of my lonely apartment into a world that exists within a 50-mile radius.
Rewind two years prior to that. I was twenty-years old when I met a man ten years older than me at a bar. Two weeks later, I hung out with him not wanting anything beyond innocent fun. Instead, I fell in love over night. It was like I had become addicted to a hardcore drug after the first time trying it. Two years later, I wanted to break this horrible, unhealthy habit. And when I tried to, I went through emotional and physical withdrawals. I was like a crackhead trying to recover but every time I was okay being sober (or thought I was) someone would dangle a bag of crack in front of me--the vicious cycle would repeat itself and each time I would fall deeper into depression and resort to partying harder and drinking more. Yet no one (not even my sisters) knew what I was going through because I was that good at pretending and putting on a pretty smile on my face or a smile on my pretty face--either way it wasn't real--my facade was a Monet. It wasn't until I found myself breaking down in a bathroom stall at work crying uncontrollably that I had become aware of my life and what I was doing to myself. It took me hitting the ground hard to become grounded. It was a pivotal moment in my life when I had chosen to live after I had considered giving up. This was the day that my life began.
I just gave you the very, very short version of this story. Maybe one day you'll be able to read the entire story in a book (or maybe even watch it as a movie) but today I fit my story in two paragraphs. I'm not telling you this story for the sake of telling a story. I'm sharing my story with you because I am living proof that there is hope--that it (whatever it may be) will get better. (I promise.) You've made it thus far. And I say this again (and will continue to say it), it's up to you to wait long enough to see that everything will be okay. You don't have to wait to breakdown in a bathroom stall for your life to begin. Today, your life begins.