Jason - 47

I carry an invisible backpack, its heavy, and I’ve been lugging it around for a good portion of my life. It isn’t one of those ergonomically engineered Fjällräven's with the perfect fit and support. Mine is one of those old 1970’s army issue canvas types with the rigid aluminum frame. It has horrible weight distribution and a baked in smell of mildew, like when you forget your clothes in the washing machine for the weekend.

Its weight has taken its toll over the years. “Back problems” have been a constant in my life since I was a child. Varying levels of discomfort, always present and by my side, not unlike my shadow. Anyone who knows me well can attest to this claim. Family, friends, and colleagues have undoubtedly listened to me moan on about it, and likely been recruited to push, pull, or twist my spine in hopes of offering us both a little relief.

So, what’s inside an invisible backpack? I would imagine the contents differ for every individual. Trauma and toxic shame inhabit a good portion of mine and have been onboard the longest. Dogpiled on top, you will find a plethora of behaviors, each dutifully waiting to be called upon at the drop of a hat, to defend both trauma and shame, keeping them shielded from any threat of exposure. Those behaviors include, but are not limited to, anger, avoidance, selfishness, insecurity, defensiveness, people pleasing, lack of boundaries, a scarcity mindset, hyper-vigilance, perfectionism, numbing, a victim mentality, self sabotage, control issues, and fear of commitment, particularly to myself.

Over the years I neglected to take responsibility for my pack. Worse, I made others carry it for me so that I wouldn’t have to step up and muster the courage to face its messy compartments. Eventually, the contents burst at the seams, again, spilling out around me, sending me into a dark anxious abyss of hopelessness which took hold stronger than anything I’d ever felt before.

Through that pain, and loss, and suffering, I was given a gift. I was “given something good I didn’t deserve”, commonly referred to as grace. I’ve been able to open my pack and shine an honest light on the contents, what I found was not unbearable, those “bad behavior’s” only ever had positive intentions for me. Intentions to protect me from further pain, by any means and at any cost. What those protectors didn’t know was that I am a man now, that I can discern between real and perceived threats, and that as much as I appreciate all their hard work, I have new tools at the ready to combat those situations should they arise.

My pack can never be left unattended again. What I carry in it is MY responsibility alone. It requires regular inspection to keep its parts in harmony. Some have already begun taking on lighter duties. It's under new management. Same guy, but considerably wiser, braver, and focused with clear goals.

Most importantly, I can proudly say I am committed to having my own back!

Music - I listened to Jackson Brown, Little River Band, and Band of Horses during my photo session.