Chapter 24 #2
The gym is packed today. We’ve already sold a bunch of merch. The place looks great with the sunshine coming through the window. Dizzy and Barb are here right now using the elliptical machines. Your nametag and staff shirt are ready and waiting for you to get home.
Hudson and Jack came in today and made fun of me for having old people music on the speakers. But members have commented on how much they love the playlists we’re using, so I told the boys to shove it. Hudson told me he’d give me a senior discount next time I came to the Juicy Peach.
We all miss you like crazy.
Love you, always and forever,
Bryce
Dear Bryce,
So, my parents were kind of pieces of shit.
Not sure this is a new realization, but I worked through some shit today and it’s pretty fresh.
My parents weren’t abusive—not like hitting and screaming type shit.
But they raised Billy and me to know exactly what they did and didn’t approve of.
We couldn’t make the family look bad. Couldn’t make the family seem like “less.” Couldn’t fail at anything.
Being different in any way was not allowed.
I knew it from the beginning. I hid anything about me that wouldn’t be approved. Got angrier and more buried in shit as the years went by.
Wish I could have stood up to them back then.
But proud of myself for being there for my boys, letting them be their true selves, and learning from them how to be the real me.
Feels good to know I stopped the cycle of shit my parents put me through. I wasn’t the best parent to my boys, but I never wanted them to think they couldn’t be true to themselves because of me.
Damn, word vomit again. Therapy is a bunch of shit. But I guess it does its job.
Fuck, I miss you.
Love,
Case
Dear Bryce,
It’s almost time to leave here. I haven’t loved it, but I think it’s been good for me to learn shit about myself. I think a part of me thought I’d leave here “cured” or some shit like that, but it’s not like that.
One thing I know is I’ve never had to do so much damn talking as they make you do here. I hate it. Well, mostly. I hate it while it’s happening, but after it’s done, it’s like everything in me settles down and says, “See, that wasn’t so hard was it? Don’t you feel better?” And fuck if I don’t.
Some people came here with this big goal of healing.
I guess I kinda had the same goal. But we learned there’s no specific endpoint you reach that says okay now you’re healed, everything is good.
It’s more about taking all your shit out, examining it, sitting with it, talking about it, sitting with it some more, figuring out which shit you can throw out and which you need to keep working on, and then working on yourself until you know you can walk through life with your shit because you have the tools to cope with it.
Like, nothing I do here is going to change the shit I carry, but I understand it all better now.
I can’t go back and change anything—and I’ve come to the sincere realization I wouldn’t want to because all of it made me who I am…
without all of it, I wouldn’t have my boys, the family businesses, or you.
So, it’s all still there, but I’m able to see it for what it is now.
Like, I know I’ll always be an addict, that’s not something I’ll ever be able to say isn’t who I am.
Weird as it sounds though, I’ve also learned addiction maybe isn’t my biggest problem.
Anger, shame, and fear have always held me back, kept me from being the real me, speaking my truth.
The addiction made it worse, but I probably would have always had problems even if I never started using the alcohol to numb everything.
If I hadn’t turned to alcohol, it would have been something else.
Figuring all that shit out, knowing I can put aside the anger, shame, and fear was like a weight lifting from my shoulders.
Those things aren’t the real me. Those things were forced on me because of shitty parents and not being allowed to be my true self.
Would I have come out as gay or bi? Hell, who knows.
But the fact I didn’t have the option back then shaped me into someone who wasn’t living their truth.
Okay, that’s enough shit for now. Hell, I hope you don’t fall asleep reading through all my rambling. Sorry this is so long, but it felt good to get it all down on paper.
I think they save some of the hardest sessions for last. Maybe they figure they’ve worn us down by this time and it’s easier to get us to work through the worst of it.
Whatever it is, I’m really glad I’m leaving here soon.
Not because it’s been the worst, but because I don’t know how much longer my heart can survive without being near you.
Yep, six weeks was all it took to turn me into a fucking sap.
I love you so damn much.
Love,
CJ
A text buzzed across my phone screen. It was Jack telling me Henry and Casey Joe were about half an hour out.
I blew out the candle, threw any perishables into a garbage bag to drop at the dumpster out back, tucked the binder under my arm, and picked up the suitcase I’d placed by the door.
It was showtime.