Collateral Damage

Owning the wreckage, not rewriting the story.

My journey to where I am today hasn’t been easy. It hasn’t been neat or straightforward. I’ve always tried to be honest—open about the worst parts, even the ones that don’t paint me in the best light.

Yes, I’ve been hurt a lot along the way. But I’ve also caused hurt—more than I like to admit, more than I ever meant to.

I’ve never pretended to be an angel. I’ve never tried to cover that up.

The truth is, I’ve turned people’s lives upside down. I’ve lied. I’ve lost people’s trust—over and over again. I’ve treated people in ways they didn’t deserve, with anger that was completely misdirected. I’ve lashed out. I’ve said cruel things. I’ve resorted to violence when I should’ve walked away.

My descent to rock bottom wasn’t sudden. It was slow and messy and filled with mistakes.

I drank too much. I took drugs I shouldn’t have taken. I gambled money I didn’t have.
Everyone around me became collateral damage.

When I look at who I became, I feel ashamed.
My rock bottom wasn’t just tears and heartbreak.
It was rage. Selfishness. Come-downs and chaos.

And the worst part? I didn’t just destroy myself—I tried to drag others down with me.

I hurt people. For a long time.
I cut off those who didn’t deserve it. I pushed away the ones who tried to pull me up. I treated good people like they were nothing—even when they showed me nothing but compassion.

There’s that saying: “Hurt people hurt people.”
It’s terrifying how much damage you can do to others when you feel like you’ve got nothing left to lose.

That kind of anger builds up inside you. And when you don’t know where to put it—when you can’t direct it at the people who hurt you—you turn it on yourself. Or worse, you turn it on the ones you think will never leave.

But eventually, people realise they don’t have to stay.
They don’t have to put up with your pain becoming their punishment.

And that’s when you find yourself alone.

That’s where you end up—when you chase all the good people away.

Reflection

I used to think that once you’d hurt people, there was no way back. That damage was final. That shame was a life sentence.

But I’ve started to learn that facing the truth is part of healing. Not the polished version of the truth—but the raw, painful, uncomfortable reality.

I can’t undo what I did. I can’t rewrite the past. But I can own it. I can try to become someone better than the version of me who caused so much hurt.

Maybe not everyone will come back. Maybe some bridges are gone for good. But I still have a chance—to rebuild what I can, to forgive what I can’t, and to stop running from who I’ve been.

Because even if I chased the good people away…

…I want to become someone who’s worthy of good people again.