A Relapse Is Just A Second Chance At Recovery

You know, it feels good to know you’re doing something right.

I know you aren’t supposed to let others define your self-worth, but that isn’t exactly easy when you’re a self-doubting adolescent surrounded by people constantly telling you what you’re doing wrong and never what you’ve done the right way. It creates this bubble of insecurity-you’re constantly looking over your shoulder, trying to see if someone’s watching and scrutinizing every move you make.

I mean, take the last six months of school. I spent the entire time running from Claire, Katie, and everyone else who just decided I was shit for no real reason. Sam was the only one who really treated me decently, and he can’t do that around Katie without arousing absolutely irrational suspicion. I really did try to make amends-and failed, like I always do.

Then there are the constant hawk-eyes I seem to get from half the members of my family, just waiting for me to mess up so they can swoop in and pick me apart. Every line I crossed was a felony, not just to them, but to myself. Soon I was weighed down with the chains of crimes others had accused, and I had convicted myself of. I was so paranoid, afraid someone would spill my secrets and laugh at the patterns they made on the linoleum of my life.

I feel like the dirty scapegoat, like a failed attempt at ridding everyone else of fault by blame. I made my mistakes, and, yet, it seemed everyone else wanted to take their mistakes and place them on my shoulders. And I suppose it worked-for a while.

I relapsed yesterday.

The messiah people had tried to turn me into couldn’t be made-I am not perfect. It seemed no one could understand that I was not really a juvenile delinquent, a psychotic self-abuser, or *shudder* jailbait. Like I say every week-<i>I am just a struggling human being.</i>

I’m just like you, I just happen to have a few more scars. 326 scars, to be exact.

And it was yesterday that my mom finally began to see that. I’m not some out of control teenager, I just ended up in a position not many people at my stage in life are put into.

It feels good to know that maybe, I’m not horrible. I’m certainly not blameless, but I’m not a walking sin either.

And, who knows. Maybe I can finally begin to come to terms with God again.

After all, I’d much rather leave behind a few high school friends than Him…