I found the piece of paper bearing the formula yesterday.
It was like finding a fading photograph of an old friend. The memories of that time–like a song that took me right back to a certain place in life–flooded my morning. The moment I found it, I reflected on a major turning point in my life.
Sitting down several years ago to write the final draft, I was very sure of every word on it. It had taken my wife leaving with the kids, several hard months of getting used to not abusing drugs and alcohol, and being alone to finally come up with what was needed. What was needed were the hard facts and the brutal honesty with myself.
It was like this: No more bulls%&t, Damon.
It has been since then that I have become a stronger and better person. I mean that. Sure, every single day I fail in one way or another, but I’m getting to a place that finally feels good. It would be nice if people were perfect, wouldn’t it? But, that’s just not the case. I just get up and brush myself off when I fall. Looking at this crumbled piece of paper yesterday had me remembering when I wasn’t able to do the falling down and getting back up thing. It had me remembering when I’d fall, and STAY DOWN. Because really, before learning things about myself through Cognitive Behavioral Therapy and through the grace of God, I was only worthy of staying down…
In my own eyes, anyway.
The crumbled piece of paper is like my life: the honesty of the words written upon the withering and aging sheet. It will someday disappear, just like me. It will simply be a little something that had its moment in time, providing what it held.