I complained. I screamed. I got mad. I was unreasonable. Life just seemed so unfair I couldn’t stand it. Someone had to be blamed…it just couldn’t be me; I would just break if that happened. 

For the past two years, I did what I could to try to get into physical therapy school. Two years in a row, rejection after rejection as well as unresponsive waitlistings, I was just about ready to give up. Actually, I did give up and decided to move on to something else. I’d definitely be lying if I told you that those times were easy. I was disappointed in myself in allowing myself to get to this point. My parents were disappointed to the point where they could barely even talk to me without hiding their disappointment; at times they just avoided seeing me. I couldn’t help but think about how useless I was and how useless my college degree seemed. Two years wasted chasing after what at that point seemed unattainable.

I saw my reflection in the mirror every morning and all I could see was a person stuck in the middle of life wandering back and forth over this line, desperately trying to move but unable to do so. I had the drive to move forward, to make something of myself, but I ultimately found myself back at the line completely and utterly unable to move. 

I blamed other things a lot for the mess I now admit was my own. I blamed God for a lot of these things mainly because He couldn’t physically tell me it wasn’t His fault. I blamed my major that just had way too many credits. I blamed the university I attended for not have such a well-known name. I blamed just about everything except myself. “Anything but me” was what was stuck on my mind at all times; almost like I had created some barrier around my awareness of self. 

I found myself in a situation where I needed to look for a job. I was unqualified and  inexperienced; no company would take me. They all said, “you have no experience in this field. All you’ve done is physical therapy related. Sorry we can’t offer you the position.” After quite a few of those, I began to blame myself. I blamed myself to the point where I just couldn’t stand being around me. I had to take myself completely off my mind. Every moment I had to myself made me want to go jump off a bridge or rip my hair out; I just couldn’t deal with it so I ran from it for as long as possible. Some how, I was able to keep myself distracted until I came to where I am now, at a job that seems to fit me surprisingly well. 

I’ve come to two conclusions; I am pathetic and am a coward. When life pushed, I complained. When life pulled, I ran. A downer? I guess I am. But i say this in an optimistic manner. I’m glad I somehow got through it. I’m glad I’m where I am. Why? I’m stronger as a result of it. I’ve found areas of me that I need to change, parts of me that make me weak, and parts of me that I can actually appreciate. 

So why reflection?

Because it’s standing in front of a mirror that let me see what was ugly, it was a mirror that helped me realize that I was weak, and it was a mirror that showed me that I need change. 


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