Day 127 — Haunted by the Boy Within
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I woke up today still exhausted by the endless loop in my head, wondering how long this is supposed to last. It’s been 127 days since I put down every form of escape I knew—nearly five months sober—and by all accounts, I’m doing everything “right.” I’m home now, surrounded by a supportive family, an amazing therapist, and a solid group of professionals guiding me every step of the way. My body’s in the best shape it’s been in years, but my mind? It still feels fractured. My heart? More confused than ever.
I’ve always felt things so deeply, and some days, it feels more like a curse than a gift. I don’t know why I have to carry this intensity in my chest when it hasn’t brought me much peace. There’s a voice inside me that whispers, Surely, this can’t be it… because I can’t believe this is all life has in store. Yet no matter how hard I fight, I keep coming back to the same haunting truth: I’ve never truly belonged—even to myself.
Ever since I was a little boy, I’ve been running—running from the kid who never fit in, who was laughed at, picked last, and always felt left behind. I see him standing at the corner of my memories, begging to be acknowledged. Maybe I’ve held on to him because letting go means losing the only identity I’ve ever known. Yet I’m starting to see that until I set him free, I’ll never become the person I’m meant to be.
I’m trying to rebuild my life now—trying to share my story, to raise awareness, and to let others lost in darkness know they’re not alone. It’s difficult, though, when I don’t feel entirely connected to myself. I find it hard to make friends or even want them, because how do I fit in with others if I don’t know how to fit in with me? It’s scary to admit I’m not sure I trust my own heart anymore, especially when that heart once felt so certain about everything.
But somewhere, I hold on to the words I heard long ago:
“Greatness takes time.”
Maybe this journey isn’t about rushing to the finish line. Maybe it’s about stumbling, getting back up, and learning to love myself piece by piece. Day by day.
I’m tired, yes—but I’m not giving up. Every morning I choose to show up for myself in ways I never have before. I’m starting to believe that is enough. Maybe one day, I’ll look in the mirror and see someone I truly love, someone who can hold all this emotion without being destroyed by it. Until then, I’ll keep moving forward—even if it’s one shaky step at a time.
Day 127
One Step. One Punch. One Round. 🌹
—Your Fellow Traveler