Locked Doors

Hello Cyberspace. I hope you all had a great St Patrick's day weekend, mine went very well. Today I'd like to relate something a little more personal.

I know that there are many people in this world struggling to make it through every day. Everybody has their individual stresses, grievances and complaints. It's to be expected in a society that measures your worth by your wallet. There are, however, many reasons to keep moving forward...to keep beating on those closed doors.

In my early twenties, I was having a tough time facing the dawn of each day. I was broke, living paycheck to paycheck (with no guaranteed hours). I was living in a rented room of an apartment. I was eating because of the efforts of the local Food Bank. My "roommates" had severe substance abuse problems, with both legal and illegal drugs. I had no extra money to support my daughter (let's call her 'Anne'; thank God for her mother and her family) and I was just barely supporting myself.

I'm a very self-critical person and being in a situation like this gave me all kinds of reasons to hate myself.  Every morning I would roll out of bed, put on my old beat-up work boots and head for the bathroom. I remember brushing my teeth facing the opposite direction of the sink so I wouldn't have to look at my own face in the mirror. Every time I met my reflection, he would berate me - "You should have stayed in school dumbass."..."Do you really think you're ever going to amount to anything? Dream on."..."How long is it going to be before you start smoking crack like the people you live with?"..."Of course your girlfriend left you, would you want a bum like you around?"..."'Anne' would be much better off if you just died." That last one was always the worst to take. I came to find out that it was the best thing anyone could have said to me.  

I had a daughter...I was at least partially responsible for the well being of another life. And I was failing at that responsibility. I knew I had to make a change. If I didn't I would be trapped in an ever-evolving cage of self-pity and self-resentment. Not to mention the fact that I was neck-deep in debt. Something had to give and it damn sure wasn't going to be me.

During this time, my aunt, who had gone to Kandahar to work as civilian offering support to the Canadian Forces, was home on leave. We've always been close and she could tell that I was struggling. She suggested I apply to go away as well. Long story short, (someday I'll write my experiences there) I went overseas. I was there for almost a year and half.

There was one thought that kept me motivated the whole time I was gone...the same thought that convinced me to apply in the first place. 'Anne' loved me. She didn't care how much money I had, how much debt I had to crawl out of...she loved me for me (a lesson I'm sure she learned from her mother, but that's another story)...and I had to learn to love me for me. If I couldn't love myself, then how could I ever truly love anyone else? How could I be of value to this little girl if even I didn't believe I had value?

Now, less than two years since coming back to Canada, I live with 'Anne'. Her mother and I are back together, I'm in school again and for the first time I can remember I'm truly happy. I'm still fairly broke, but we make ends meet. Life is good. I wake up everyday to two of the most beautiful people on the planet. 

I guess what I'm trying to say is no matter how dire the situation seems there's always a way out. The key lies within you...it will open every door you want it to. I know it's the most cliche thing I could write, but you can literally do anything. I had to go around the world to find my key, even though it was buried right here at home.  I'm sure you can find yours.

 Peace and Love
The Critical Stranger

As always, thoughts, comments and suggestions are encouraged and appreciated!