Screwed Up, as in the past tense

Reading Screwed Up: My life by Allie Van Wagoner is difficult, for it pulls the covers on a world many of us prefer not to engage with.  That being said, story is in many ways our best collective vehicle for healing. It gives pain a structure and an outlet.  Bringing what is hidden into the light transforms the suffering that can remain locked in repression, in the unconscious.

The most amazing thing for me while reading this dark tale was to simultaneously be following Allie’s blog.  Regardless of the difficult scenes playing out across the pages, in the background I had this moving image of Allie today, a mother preparing outrageously sweet treats for her boys, going on nature walks, celebrating her relationship with her husband and making the most out of each day.

Many choose to bury the dark passages of their lives, to pretend they never happened.  Underground, it creates a cunning type of havoc that baffles us.  Seeing one like Allie claim her story, to exhibit the courage to make it public regardless of obstacles and opposition, provides for all of us a living answer to the question “why bother?”

(Note: I’m fortunate to work at a therapuetic boarding school that does what it can to help troubled teen girls.  Stories like Allie’s are happening all around us.)