How do we start over? How do we forgive ourselves for the mistakes of our younger selves? How do we make peace with what is without leaving room for fear of the unknown? How do we keep up with the pretense? How do we stop the pain from morphing us into unrecognizable versions of ourselves? How do we let go? How do we reboot?
These are just a few of the questions I ask God when I talk to him. My prayers are filled with so many “Hows” and “whys” that it’s easy for anyone watching to think I was in a philosophy class and not trying to talk to my creator. I forgive so easily but have no clue how to forgive myself. I squirm at the thought of harm being done to others but I have punished and violated my body and mind so much that people have to look away when speaking to me to keep me from seeing the tears in their eyes. I lie to keep the peace. Does that make me a bad person? I freeze up at the thought of being worthy of love. Does that mean I shouldn’t crave it regardless? I am so much to a handful of people but to me, I am nothing. A mistake. A big cosmic joke. A failed attempt.
How many ways can one speak on their pain before it is acknowledged? How long can you punish yourself before God steps in and takes away the killing thing from your hands? How many “sorries” and “forgive me’s” do I have to say before I can accept that I too am worthy of forgiveness? How do I keep performing for others to make them more comfortable looking me in the eye? Would my life be any different if I had taken alternate paths? How much longer do I have to be here? So many questions, so little answers.
I wake up everyday and command myself to reboot. To start over. To try again. But it never works-so many paths I have taken in an attempt to understand and all I have to show for it are this damaged heart and battered back. I slowly step in front of the mirror and after what seems like years, I stare at my reflection and say with the little strength I have left in a pleading voice, “Reboot”…
