Member-only story
A Boy Walks Into a Treatment Center
A story of struggle, faith, hope, help, recovery — and dare I say redemption and triumph
I know I touch on words like trauma, pain, chaos, and healing in my writing, work, and everyday life but to be completely and thoroughly honest with you all — very few of you have the first idea of, or about the full extent of it.
This is because, despite having written here regularly for what is coming up on five years, about all of it and then some, I’ve still hardly scratched the surface.
At least it feels that way. This might be because as I’m telling you about one thing, another is either happening or being resurfaced and/or revisited by my subconscious and conscious — for good reason. For reasons, even I’m not fully aware of, until after.
I like to view this as the universe and every force within it that’s for me, keeping me stockpiled with plenty of material to share with you all.
The gods ensure my inventory is properly stockpiled and at capacity, all while doing their damndest to see it’s never more than I can handle.
I’m still here writing and semi-smiling through it all, so they must know what they’re doing. But boy, there are days and have been nights I almost broke.
