I have said this before, "I do not like the reflection in the mirror."
I am trying to change my view on that, but for now, that's how it is.
But I have come across another way of looking at myself; getting outside of my body and soul and mind and looking at me as another person.
What do I see? Where to begin?
Physically, I see a tall man, that isn't overweight, but has somewhat of an athletic built. I see a guy that has a lost and emotionless face. Never focused on something. Always wandering with his eyes trying to find some answers around him. A man that hardly smiles and takes a lot to crack a smile. He is not a hateful son of a bitch, rather a man searching for something, but he has no idea what he is looking for. Hard to find something when you have no idea what you're looking for.
When I look at this man, you can't see what is inside of him. There is no way of telling what is on his mind. He looks to have something to say, but can't seem to find the words. He looks tired.Always. Never rested. Miserable could be a word to use to describe him. This young man I see looks like he is pissed off and saddened by life. Yeah, he is definitely lost.
He looks confused and unsure of anything. He is full of secrets or something. I can definitely see there is something on his mind. He looks healthy. I mean he is 6'2, 200 lbs. He is a young man. Looks fit. So he must be healthy.
I notice his hands. No wedding ring, so I can make the assumption that he is single, gay, or maybe has a girlfriend. I have to cover all the bases. His fingernails are depleted. Especially three of them. There is nothing there. Chewed down to the finger. I am not a psychologist, but that must mean something. Bad or good, it explains something.
He walks methodically. Slowly, he gets along. Step after step, he moves quietly.
He isn't confident looking. He looks sad and unsure. What can be wrong with him?
The only place where he looks happy is at the hockey rink. Out on the ice, moving around gracefully and helping younger hockey players. I see some genuine smiles from him. It is like a whole new person. Once he walks through the doors of a hockey rink, he transforms into something magical. He interacts with people flawlessly and effortlessly. Whether it is teaching them something or sharing a joke or smile, he is definitely at his best. It is evident to see he is at peace in this environment and loves what he is doing. This is his happy place. It is his sanctuary. He sure looks like he has some joy from this.
That is what I saw a few weeks ago.
Now what do I see?
Something that I have not seen in a long time. Maybe ever. He looks more confident in his life. I guess more hopeful is the proper term. Sign of progress. A sign of life.
He still has a shyness to him. Won't speak first unless he is spoken to. There is improvement. A sign of life.
He still moves slowly. I guess that is not a bad thing. Maybe he is taking it all in. Everything around him, he is observing without judgement and just taking life as it comes. A sign of life.
Smile? Yeah. He is starting to crack a few. He wouldn't fake a smile anymore, so that must be real. Joy. He is finding joy in the little things in life. He is getting wise. A sign of life.
I notice he says thank you a lot. Therefore, I can assume he is grateful. Expressing gratitude more has definitely changed his life. A sign of life.
The way his face and eyes lighten up when his son is around is amazing. Another part of his life where the joy and goodness is coming back. If it isn't coming back, he is developing it. It is never too late to make changes to you life. It is too late when you're dead. A sign of life.
Back into my body.
How did this change, or transformation occur?
Was it all the doctors, nurses, mental health workers, friends, family, strangers, medications, etc.?
Absolutely. They are all critical to my well-being. But there is something that is a prequel to them all. I have meditated and searched for the answer. It comes down to one word in my mind.
Hope.
I didn't quit because I had hope. I seek help because I didn't want to give up. It was just one ounce of strength I had left. When the rest of my body was telling me to quit and give up and kill yourself, there was still one little ounce of hope.
Without hope there is no beginning to getting better. When it is 3:37 a.m. and everyone in your life is sound asleep, you are only left with hope.
I was literally minutes from poisoning myself and ending the torture and suffering. Something stopped me. There is no doubt in my mind it was hope. The hope to live another day. The hope to fight this illness. Hope that I will see my son again. Hope I will see my family again. Hope to skate down the ice again. Hope to have one more breath. Hope not to quit and die.
I am not sure if hope can be quantified. Even the smallest amount of hope can change your life. It can save your life. 'Glimmer of hope' is an expression. I am still alive because that is exactly what I had; a 'glimmer of hope'. I am walking proof that there may be millions of excuses to quit, but you only need the tiniest amount of hope to save your life.
"We must accept finite disappointment, but never lose infinite hope."
-Martin Luther King, Jr.
Yours Truly,
T.J. Smith
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