It Got Better

I was cruising along Facebook this afternoon and found a video Adam Lambert had done called “It Got Better.” He’d originally done one some time ago for It Gets Better, but this is a new one. In it, he talks about his struggles with being gay and feeling alone because of it, and how he always strove to be himself. Here is the video if you want to see it.

Damn, I love that guy. And his message.

Granted, I’m not gay or struggling with being gay, but I have had struggles of my own. Recently I participated in #AprilLove2016, which was a month-long challenge to write love letters every day according to specific word or concept. It changed every day. And love letters didn’t have to be actual letters, they could be pictures, or paintings, or collages…whatever you wanted to create. I managed 14 days of 30, due to wrist tendonitis catching up with me (I was writing longhand in a journal for most of them, and for a few posted them to my blog). I really wanted to complete all 30, but doing14 of them was fun. By the end of the month, I was in the throes of a flare and could not even consider writing anything longhand. Maybe, once I feel better, I could try to the rest here and there.

Anyway, one of the topics that got me thinking was “Dear Younger Me.” Writing that brought back so many memories of my teenage years and beyond and how I struggled to find acceptance. I still do to this day, but it’s definitely better than it was.  I’m speaking specifically about my teen years.

I was bullied and made fun of in school, for no other reason than existing. I still bear the scars to this day. I’ve always struggled with self-esteem and self-acceptance, and of course clinical depression and anxiety. Overall, I’m more confident than I was, but I still deal with lingering effects as well, and it effects every part of my life. It’s sort of amazing how a few cruel words and actions (locking me in a closet, for an example) can impact someone so much and for so long. I’m severely claustrophobic now because of that. I know in my heart that I’m cool, that I’m valuable, that I’m special, but sometimes I don’t feel that way. Sometimes I feel like a failure.

But writing that post helped me see things from the other side. Sure, I had a rough time, but I SURVIVED. It’s been over twenty years since then, and I’ve done so much with my life, so much creatively. I’ve made peace with myself and with what happened. I said, “screw them — they no longer have any power over me.” I’ve also become super-sensitive to others being made fun of. Because I know what that feels like, and it SUCKS.

It did get better. But it took a lot of blood, sweat, and tears to get to this place. It took years of therapy, medication, and soul-searching. It took being suicidal several times and getting help. It took the love of my husband, who accepts me as I am no matter what. It takes hope, and faith, and a strong belief in myself and my own strength. It takes an amazing family who loves me and encourages me all the time. It takes journaling and writing and taking pictures. It takes courage to keep going. It takes courage to WANT to keep going. It takes spirit, and ambition, and drive.

It took all of these things to create the woman I am today. But perhaps “create” is not the right word. Maybe “transform.” I have a saying that I read somewhere that really sums it up well:

You are infinite, eternal.
You are subject to the same laws as energy.
You cannot be created or destroyed —
only changed.

So, yes, it got better. Just like Adam, I found myself in the time between then and now. It got better, and I was changed by the experience.