Dear, 2015 me.

 https://www.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/preview/4071027606288860706/7335483393255843265



Hey you.
I wish so desperately that I could somehow teleport back there and give you the long embrace that you deserve. I know that in the headspace you're in, nothing that I say to you would even begin to make sense or even remotely sound real. But it is real.

I've lost a lot of my poetic writing style, so you'll have to forgive me (hopefully) for not putting beautiful metaphors in here. I think that poetic style was your way of expressing pain.
That pain isn't here anymore in 2024. 

Twenty - Twenty Four. I know. God do I know. That sounds so impossibly far away.
You'll live a very difficult life and go down a very, very challenging path that seems so rough, so rugged that you can't even move a single step forward, except you do.

You finally fixed the whole CRA fiasco, and you know what you did with all that money that was back-paid and owed to you? You saved your fucking life, dude!
You finally had a full dental extraction surgery! 
And as much as you fretted and had mental breakdowns over the prospect of looking yourself in the mirror without teeth, as much as you thought you'd feel disgust and hatred at yourself, you didn't.
Your cheeks became rounder, your lips became poutier, you put on that healthy weight again and finally fell in love with food. Finally.

You also got a pretty incredible pair of dentures. You don't wear them often because you're a homebody and feel comfortable at home without your teeth in, but you still feel beautiful either way.
Oh! and employment? You had a good job! You socialized with customers and got over your anxiety.

A lot of awful things happened to you, leading up to 2024, but you survived it all.
Also, you're not Deven Melanson-MacDonald anymore. Just a small spoiler.
I won't give away too much, so that you don't go looking in the wrong places or at the wrong time, but you get married, and you have a beautiful 4 year old son with your wife.

Joey is still living with your mother, and it still bothers you, but you spoke to a family lawyer.
You never actually lost custody, you never lost parental rights, and no one ever took legal guardianship. It's all by verbal agreement, and Joey can live in your home full-time again if you have the resources set up to help him. It's complicated right now, but your MCFD file is closed, and you have a copy of the files. It's a lot. It took nearly 2 years to comprise and gather everything.

You've had Joey for several week-long visits without your mother supervising, and recently you've helped him achieve a huge milestone. 

This summer you finally properly met your daughter.
You'll spend some time with her in the hospital when she's born, and it's going to feel like you're dying of a broken heart for everything that's yet to come.
But somehow you survive it.

You'll be in her life, but it's complicated.
It's painful at first, but you slowly heal.
You'll end up having an incredible counselor who helps you to heal the trauma that you can't talk about right now, the stuff you don't even think about.

You're at the point in your life now, where the most painful things that happened in your time in 2015 are distant, you can talk about all of it now, and you're able to breathe deeply and see the path ahead.

Thank you for surviving.
Against all odds.
Even when you didn't want to anymore.
Even if it was purely out of spite.

Oh, a spoiler? that quote? You've got it tattooed to your ribcage now. It's faded quite a bit, and desperately needs to be touched up, but it's there.

You changed the road in 2018.
Hang in there. 

Your compass eventually points north again.

- Deven