Trauma Treatment

Storytelling At Toronto Fringe Festival — Photo Credit — Brian Finch

Let me tell you a story…

The year is 2017. Donald Trump is President of the United States of America. I am at school full time and I am excelling. I mean really doing well. A plus average. A paper published. I am miserable. I cannot concentrate.

I am 55 years old and I have missed my life. My life is missing. I lived my life but it escaped me. I am 55 and I feel like I missed my life.

I am mourning my life. I loathe myself, my body is gross, my life is foul. I cannot do anything properly.

And yet, I care for myself the best I know how. I was able to start brushing my teeth (my poor teeth) (FINALLY) on a regular basis, 6 months ago. For the first time in my life I am brushing my teeth twice daily. I wash my clothes on a regular basis. I shower daily and mostly groom okay (I am not great at shaving or stuff but I try).

I am an undergraduate at University with a publication and I need to go Kindergarten.

I know people like me. Some people do. I never know why. I just do what I can. I really dislike what I see in the mirror.

The guy in the photo is me. I have taken up storytelling. I pick up some of the pieces of my story and I tell them in public. I get a satisfaction from storytelling. I can’t say that it makes me happy. I can say that it allows me to connect with my life, a life that I am mostly otherwise disconnected from.

I hope that someday I will own my life back.