52 Weeks of Tears
A glimpse into my healing journey…
I am forever grateful for my so far fifty-two-week journey of healing. I am only here today because someone followed their calling to become a guide for others, others like me.
I don’t know what I expected — or perhaps it’s just that I had no real expectations besides what we see on television. And my first visit was on video due to Covid — well, she was on video while all I could agree to at that time was to type into a chat box. Small steps I guess — but this felt like a giant one.
I used up my very last pocketful of courage to even make the therapy appointment, so I didn’t even have that — I was just broken but willing. All I had at that point was a guide and a desire to find peace. She assured me that we would get through this journey together, and the word “we” sparked what would be a year of tears. Tears of hurt, tears of transformation, and then eventually tears of pure gratitude and peace.
What I learned is that healing isn’t about being thrown down a rainbow slide into a pool of grace. It’s a bit more like stepping foot into a dark forest, a forest with no paths. This was a road of digging and peeling and touring shadowy places. Of meeting people in my head that I didn’t know existed, and in finding my young self and keeping him safe.
