Facebook memories are a cultural phenomenon. In my mind they are very personal, a memory to you and maybe a handful of people who share that memory with you. For this reason it always makes me wonder when folks "share" their personal Facebook memories. The value of that memory exists within the owners head.
These memories can be a double edged sword. Four years ago, I found myself at as low as I can remember. The pandemic was just three months old. I was unemployed and my wife was in a job she hated. Life was a struggle, so we did what a lot of people did at that time and adopted a dog.
That dog was only with us for about 3 days before she slipped out a door that I had cracked open. Within a couple days, I received notification that she had been struck by a car. I was devastated and an emotional wreck. My children were broken hearted and carried some level of blame. My wife was struggling under an already intolerable burden when I added this one onto her pile. I scared myself that day as I became afraid to ask the question "can this get any worse?" The answer of course is that it can...
This image is from a river trip we took with friends the following day -- exactly four years ago. I love this picture of my son, gazing outward so thoughtfully, the world still full of promise and his future so bright and ahead of him.
Behind him, though, I was struggling. A mess of anxiety, depression, and addiction. Shattered into so many pieces, I didn't think it would ever be possible to put myself back together. In fact, I still haven't...
Slowly and painstakingly, I have tried to build my life back and have been successful in many ways. My children are functional, I am employed, and in general, life is back to the way it was before the pandemic.
That is the problem, though. Life wasn't perfect before the pandemic as my mental health issues have impacted this family for years. I have been a poor husband, an inconsistent parent, and my own worst enemy.
Which brings us to the hear and now. I am choosing a new path, a new direction, and a chance for a new life. I am 49 years old, and still have time to write a new chapter. I pray that there are still years left to repair the wrongs that I have done and to enjoy the wisdom that has come from my journey.
I never asked to be an After School Special, but I became one. I share my story to show the normalcy of a "functioning mental patient". I finally open my book up to show others that addiction struggles are real and only exacerbate the troubles that exist within our mind.
Finally, I am starting this blog to let others know that there is hope. Telling my story is not heroic, as mental illness and substance abuse should not be put on a pedestal in our culture of victimhood. My experiences will hopefully serve as a reminder that I am a human being, struggling just like everyone else with our complicated brain.
While "Facebook lives" may look amazing from the outside, many of us are struggling with something deep and profound that is not captured in those moments we share with our "friends". That peaceful picture of my son masks a time in my life when I didn't want to exist any more. Could an image and a mental state be any more juxtaposed?
It took me four years to get here but as any addict knows, it's great that we finally made it. Jump aboard, and join my for this next chapter.
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