Notes on Healing
If you know a person who has experienced deep trauma in their lives, they likely have a story (or several of them) that they tell about themselves that keeps them locked in a destructive pattern of self-inflicted abuse. Most of these stories will involve addiction, and then if they’re lucky, recovery. Sometimes, the story will remain, even after the drugs and alcohol are removed. This has been true for me.
I used to tell a story about myself regarding my lack of college education. Every time I thought about pursuing something that I wanted, I didn’t think I was worthy. Take writing, for instance. As long as I have had the ability to form sentences, I have wanted to be a writer. Yet, I have never permitted myself to label myself as such because I had a belief about my lack of education that inhibited me from pursuing writing as a career or even as a hobby. I wasn’t allowed to do it, because I was an uneducated, lazy, undeserving person. These are things I told myself —even after accumulating things that would make most people proud. Five years of sobriety, ten years of employment at one of the best companies in the world, a solid 401k, and a library of books read that would make even the most educated literature snob drool. Despite all of this, there was always this belief that I was a failure, or that trying would always lead to failure, so why bother?
History told me that I was incapable of being a good student. I spent four years of high school barely scraping by. Three previous attempts at college education had also been miserable and had done nothing but ruin my GPA. I believed that I was incapable of learning in a structured format and that the only education that I would be able to find would have to be a self-directed, self-guided tour through books that interested me. I would allow myself to write for fun, but would never permit myself to submit anything for publishing nor would I ever tell anyone that I was a writer. I was undeserving.
Somewhere along the last five years, this dialogue has shifted. I started to realize that the voice in my head was the voice of my abuser and the things that the voice was saying were not real. As soon as the negative talk began, I was able to say “That is a lie. I deserve to have my dreams come true.” I also realized that my brain was addled by various forms of trauma during high school that I was incapable of learning anything. I was just trying to survive. As soon as I realized that, I started being willing to look into learning on my own terms again.
I decided to slowly return to college after turning 40 last year. I voiced this decision on Facebook (of course) and found out from a beloved coworker that my union benefits entitled me to a FREE education. My first thought was that if I didn’t pay for it, it wouldn’t mean as much. I quickly shot that lie down too and registered. As my great friend Kelly says, “Free is my favorite flavor.” Why wouldn’t a free education mean as much as one I paid for? If anything, that is a lie that is fed to us by people who do not want us to know better.
The school that provides this education makes the process super easy for working people like myself to slowly work towards achieving their goals. Each semester is eight weeks and the classes are fast, which means that there is little time for distraction. I get bored very easily, so I have found that this is an excellent way to learn. My first semester flew by, and aside from self-inflicted perfectionism, it went very well. I decided that “slowly returning” was not what I was looking for and decided to take a full load for the next eight weeks. Three days after the second semester began, we were in the midst of a global pandemic and my entire life changed, at home and work. I don’t know how I would have survived this year if it wasn’t for school. It has been a great distraction from the monotony at work and has always given me something to do when boredom hits. I do not have time to get bored these days. The only bummer about being in school is the interruption to my pleasure reading. In 2019, I read 54 books. This year, I’ll be lucky if I can complete 15. (Current count: 12 books completed, three in progress.) However, I will have completed 33 credits in one year and also maintained a 4.0 GPA.
It is hard to say if this year’s return to education would have been so successful for me if life was normal, and not what it is today. Would I have been as dedicated to my studies if there were music festivals to go to? Maybe not. Still, it has been an incredible experience to rewrite the tales that I’ve been telling myself for so long. Remember how I said that I would never allow myself to submit anything for publishing? Or call me a writer? Both of those things have changed. Today I am proud to say that I’m not only a 4.0 student, but I am also a published writer.
If you have fallen victim to your inner voice, I would suggest a deep dive to figure out whose voice is behind the words that you tell yourself. Time heals many wounds and so does trying something again. It is never too late to be the person that you want to be.
