Head up. Wings out.

Head Up. Wings out.  

by: Anonymous MRTT/SRTT member

Since I was a kid, I always had the same dream.  

I bolt out the back door and sprint across the porch.  I burst through the porch screen door and hear the screen door slowly shut.  The dog door slaps rhythmically back and forth.  I continue to pick up speed across the driveway and head for the large pine tree at the corner of our front yard.  As soon, as my feet hit the blanket of pine needles beneath the tree, I am propelled in the air.  I fly, high up in the sky, with the tree far below.  Everything is left behind.  The violence, the sexual abuse, everything, left behind.  Gone.

I can't fly, but I can come damn close through running.  Due to this, running became my escape.  It also became my enemy.  I became addicted and ran obsessively.  I developed a severe eating disorder and reached 67 lbs twice.  A large chunk of my life was spent in various long term and short term hospitalizations.  I am healthier now, but still struggle with my demons on a daily basis.

This year was rough.  I am just now starting to confront my childhood.  As a reminder that I will not be defined by it, I had the Hebrew word for overcome tattooed on the inside of my left wrist, above the fading scars caused by self-harm and my Garmin watch.  A reminder that I can fly and gain distance from my past.

I am still learning how to run in a healthy fashion.  Although, sometimes it has gotten me in trouble, it has also provided me with much needed comfort in my darkest hours.  I have to remember to wield its power for positive change.

"Head up.  Wings out."