2 min read
30 Jul

     April showers bring May flowers, I always loved seeing Spring come to life every year. The beautiful and colorful flowers, and the smells of heaven in the air. Watching things bloom always brought hope and reminded me that I could bloom like that too. I loved putting in the yardwork and gardening watching my plants grow with love and nutrients. You know what I hated though? Those damn weeds, no matter what I did they always seemed to keep sprouting up. Their ugliness in contrast to the flowers ruined the picture I had in my head. Those weeds were parasites, taking from the flowers and worse they took from my hard work. It was a weekly routine having to pick out those weeds only to find them returning quicker than I imagined. It felt like no matter what I did, those weeds would keep coming back. I uprooted them, I poisoned them, and anything else I could try. Those stubborn weeds refused to die, refused to stop growing and I was becoming exhausted after years of this cycle.  

     My life mirrored that of those stubborn weeds. I was constantly pruning things and people out of my life so I could see the flowers.  Yet, they kept popping back into my life and taking my time, my energy, and my peace. Eventually bitterness took root inside me, and I began watering those roots more and more. The more I tried to fight the weeds, my expectations of life for everything, the deeper the roots grew inside me. Until one day I found myself alone, in a home that wasn’t a home to me. With a garden that was full decayed and rotten flowers, and overgrown with weeds. I had spent so many years wrestling with those weeds but they always seemed to thrive. My pain, hurts and habits were exactly like that. I stopped watering the flowers in my life and started watering the pain. Those deep-seated roots of bitterness and hurt felt overwhelming. I didn’t want to be alone and I didn’t want my life to be full of rotten things, but that’s what it became. So, I drank, and that poison of alcohol let those weeds grow inside me every day. I was poisoning myself and removing the good memories, but always leaving the bad. I let this continue until the universe sent me a sign, and it felt like a two-by-four hit me in the face. 

      I was given an ultimatum either repair and clean up my home so it looks presentable or face eviction. I had 30 days to make my house look presentable, and I didn’t know where to start. I began to get angry and scream blaming those damn weeds. It all started with them, and they drove me insane. I went outside and began ripping them out; I was in a frenzy. It didn’t matter if they were coming back, I just had to get it done. I went to my garage to find that old weedkiller to douse them, but when I found it, I was surprised. It wasn’t a weedkiller at all, it was just poison. I had been using poison on my plants this entire time, and wondered why they died, but not the weeds. Those weeds thrived on the poison and my flowers decayed. I had a moment of revelation; I was doing the same thing to myself. I had been poisoning myself thinking I could remove those weeds, but I let the beautiful flowers in my soul die instead. I had stopped blooming and let my life be overgrown with pain, twisting me in its thorns. I had to change, I had to repair and prune those weeds inside of me as well. 

      In the light of this revelation, I reached out for mental health. I took it day by day just like I did with those weeds. I went out every day to pull those weeds with their deep roots until I finally succeeded. My home was in order, my life was in order once again. I put in the work and watched it pay off in dividends, but I had to take it one day at a time. Finally, I had reached a point where I could bloom again and I walked out front that day expecting to pull weeds. To my everlasting surprise I found no weeds this time, but a row of orange marigold flowers. I didn’t plant them, and I didn’t know of anyone who would take the time to do so. However, I took at is a sign from the universe, my higher power, whatever, to tell me it was time to let the flowers bloom in my life again. That every day I could properly grow these marigolds, and not poison them. I was able to let these flowers of joy, warmth and happiness bloom in me again. I'm thankful for the lessons of those weeds, and I'm grateful to those who planted those flowers in my life to watch me grow with them.

 -Mack  

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