Radical Gratitude
On how the darkest times gave me the greatest gifts.
Someone I loved once gave me a box full of darkness. It took me years to understand that this, too, was a gift. — Mary Oliver
During one of the darkest moments of my life as I was hiding in my closet, I realized I wasn’t being grateful for myself. I was almost seventeen years old. After I ditched school — even though I was on house arrest and could go to juvenile hall for breaking the rules — I went and got stoned with a boyfriend. I wasn’t supposed to be with this boyfriend. There was no good news about him, and he got me into all sorts of trouble. On that day, we smoked pot in the back of his car. And then he brought out the cocaine. I knew I had to submit to routine drug testing as part of my probation. I shouldn’t have done that. After we snorted lines of coke and got high, I felt an awful sinking feeling.
The three minutes of euphoria vanished into the downward spiral of oblivion. How could I turn back? Once that boyfriend dropped me off at home, I sat in my bedroom, staring at my face in the mirror. Suddenly, my grandmother’s car pulled into the driveway. I quickly hid in the closet so she wouldn’t know I was there.
In the darkness, I remembered many things that made me feel every nuance and crevice of my worst emotions. I was stuck in a spin cycle of shame. And since I’m…
