The Mask

For 13 years of my life I’ve hidden my pain from family, friends and peers. Seemingly fine on the outside, but inside I was suffering far more than anyone could imagine. I like to think that somewhere along the way I could have just spoken up, but thankfully the same boy hiding from the world isn’t the man I am today. 

Experiencing trauma as a child has a way of letting you physically grow up, but menatlly holding you back. For so long the inner child in me was begging for help, but too scared to ask. In a world where men/boy’s have to be strong mentally, and should absolutely not show their emotions, I felt stuck. It’s interesting to look back on my childhood and growing up, because the older I got the more mental health was talked about, but the less I wanted to talk about my own struggles. “The thug it out”, thought process unbeknownst was pushing me further and further into a deeper place. 

If you’ve known me over the last couple of years, laughter, and a big smile are usually associated with me. In my counseling sessions, I described those as my masks that worked. Masks that allowed me to fit in whether it be around family, school, or even work. I think I had myself fooled for a time being, having stuffed that trauma so far down that even I forgot about it. It was always a lingering thought, and started to quietly affect my confidence, anxiety would follow and then just outright depression. 

Depression is the worst thing I’ve had to go through so far in my life. Not being able to love myself has eaten me alive the last couple of years and not feeling confident to talk about it created a whole I found it hard to see my way out of. Smiling and laughter didn’t feel the same anymore and for every step forward I took, the anchor of trauma seemed to get heavier and heavier as I tried to drag it along, almost reminding me “that I’m still here Ryan.” You try to drag this seemingly immovable object and you just flame out. The inner battle between fighting it and giving up, constantly clashing in your mind. 

So I fought, but then I gave up? Maybe both at the same time honestly. On the outside I wanted better for myself, I wanted to be a better me, but inside I was tired and the desire to completely give up were my dominating thoughts. The last couple of years, I don’t know if I was suicidal, but I knew I didn’t want to be where I currently was in life. Feeling as though I lived in a circle of ups and then downs that took seemingly forever to climb back out of. This ebb and flow of constantly dealing with the place I was at mentally and also having to know how to adjust to being an adult was horrible. All the weight that I had been dragging with me, no longer wanted to budge, leaving me struggling with everything in my past and everything I wanted my future to be in the middle of nowhere. 

Feeling alone in my fight, but not wanting to be alone. The battle I wish I never had to face, because not only was I starting to hurt myself, but others around me. Feeling numb to others peoples feelings, because as myself I had no care. I thought depression was bad….try losing people that you had no business losing. Pain, sadness and regret. It’s an incredibly hard pill to swallow, but I did that all to myself. I can blame my mental health, feeling lonely or blaming it on carelessness, but when you hurt someone other than yourself, it forces you to look in the mirror. 

In that mirror was a young man with a mask hiding his true struggles from the world and a boy inside of him begging for help. Couple that in with losing two of the most important people in my life at the time and I was broken. Fighting for 13 years, hiding for 13 years got me here and the demons in my closet that I knew I had to face, was a battle I didn’t want to face. So on a night in September I decided that I was done fighting, because It had gotten me nowhere and I refused to talk about it, so I was at a place where I was at peace about no longer being here. Had my dad not found me, with the efforts of my mom, my sister and ex not actively looking for me, I wouldn’t even be telling my story right now. I would have been another son, nephew, friend that couldn’t handle the pain anymore, I would have been another life gone too soon…. 

For the past 2 months I’ve gone back and forth whether to start this blog. Nights of praying for my purpose in life, and I truly believe this is my purpose. I’m now open to share my story with the hope that if it helps even one person off the ledge, it was worth it. I want my story to help others remove the mask, and understand that it’s okay to be scared. I was terrified of talking about the things I’ve been through. I can be honest, it’s not an overnight change, even though I started counseling, I recognize it’s still a process. I also recognize two things. I got myself and I got my faith, but I also know what I don’t have….that damn mask!! 

-Ryan Jackson