milestones

so....

today, 10/3/10, marks two months since i had my surgery.  since that day, i've officially lost 60 lbs and three pants sizes, in addition to one shirt size (and probably more).  oddly enough, my socks still fit.

i feel as though i should be elated, or at least more enthusiastic than i feel - however, the events of recent weeks (when five young men have committed suicide because of bullying) leads my mind down a different path.  i want to take this opportunity to tell anyone and everyone reading this that you are perfect, exactly the way that you are.  we all go through rough spots in life - sometimes in the space of an hour - where we feel that we aren't pretty enough, or smart enough, or thin enough, or whatever enough, to be a functional part of society.  lies.  it's all lies.

there's no such thing as pretty enough, etc. there's only being who you are.  if the world isn't ready for who you are, they will try to tell you that you are less than, or other than.  more lies.  if you are reading this, then that means you are breathing, which leads to the inevitable conclusion that you are blessed because you can read, you can see, you are still able to draw air into your lungs.  these are all blessings to which countless others are not privy, and they alone are reasons to believe that there is something good out there for you.

i am thrilled at the weight loss i've achieved, and i've even had my moments of standing in front of the mirror, flexing my newly visible neck and arm muscles, endlessly fascinated with the reflection.  i'm here to tell you, though - no new clothes will give me the same sense of satisfaction as knowing that no matter how much weight i lose, i am myself.  i may get more comfortable with the 'me' the world sees, but i am slowly realizing that, in the immortal words of Stuart Smalley, 'i'm good enough, i'm smart enough, and gosh-darn-it, people like me.'

my heart weeps for the five individuals who couldn't see past the ugliness the world threw at them.  i weep for their families, who will never know the men those boys might have become.  i weep for the bully-ers, who will live forever with the knowledge that they share some (possibly infinitesimal, purely incidental) responsibility for one of those deaths.  mostly though, i weep at the thought that those deaths ever had occasion to occur.  if you are reading this, you are one of my closest friends, and i appreciate you far more than this limited medium could ever express.  for understanding those limitations, i thank you.  believe me when i say that i could not have done any of this (the past two months) without any one of you.  i love each and every one of you and i hope that i have never given you reason to believe that you are lacking in any way.

there are some who claim that suicide is the ultimate in selfishness.  to anyone who believes that, i would counsel you to look inside yourself and examine whatever dark corner you have in which you keep those thoughts of not-enough-ness.  suicide, at least in the context of the past three weeks, is the result of the cancer those thoughts metastasize into when they are not exposed to the light of day, or worse - when they are shoveled in from the outside, some external source who chances upon the very most hurtful words anyone could ever say to another.  your mission: go read a book of Emily Dickinson's poetry (or as much of it as you can stomach - she's not for everyone), search for those hidden, necrotic thoughts, and excise them.  remove them and flush the area with antiseptic.  repeat as necessary.  remember always that you are enough, just by being here.  you can never know the weight of your own words, negative or positive, and you can never predict what words will have the greatest impact to which person.  if for that reason alone, guard the words you say to others carefully.

i don't mean to preach, unless it be to myself.  in many ways this is my variation on Rilke's _Letters to a Young Poet_.  please do remember that there is at least one person in this world (that would be yours truly) who believes that you can literally do anything you put your mind to - be it walking on the moon, finally finishing that novel, catching the last elusive firefly before autumn sets in, writing a law that will change the world, or even just going to the grocery store and cleaving faithfully to your shopping list.  whatever it is that you want to do, you have a #1 fan right here.  you are able! you are fearsome!

you are my friends, and i love you.  don't ever forget how many ills those three words can heal, or how many scars their absence or neglect can cause.

in memoriam - for privacy's sake i won't name the five young men here, but a non-extensive Google/Bing search will yield their names.  to the departed, may you find the acceptance and love in heaven that you were denied here.