Growth is Optional

This week was the worst week you’ve had all year. And that was even before noon on Wednesday. But by Saturday, you would be on a path for a better life. One week takes you from living in the worst of days, to looking forward to better ones. But what can you expect? It is 2020 after all.

On Monday, you had a bad day. Nothing in comparison to what was to come the next day, but definitely bad in its own right. You got sprayed by a skunk in the morning, making you decide against going to the job interview you had. You got two bills in the mail, one overdue. And your boyfriend blew off your anniversary dinner.

On Tuesday, you rescheduled dinner plans with Grandma because your boyfriend needed to talk and it couldn’t wait another day. When you called Grandma, you said it might be a marriage proposal and she said it was okay to reschedule, that she wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon. But he never came over to your place to talk like he said he would. Instead, he called you and, when you answered, he hung up. Moments after that, you got a message from him that read

“I couldnt bring myself to tell you this in person bc i dont want to see such a gorgeous face cry I couldnt bring myself to tell you on the phone bc i didnt want to hear sch a pretty voice cry but we are done im sry plz don’t be mad at me”

You reread the texts with teary eyes and start to sob. You get enough composure for long enough to text him back, but the text doesn’t go through. You try again and again. No luck. You’ve been blocked.

You call Grandma to cheer you up. She had always had a special way to cheer you up, sometimes without any words at all. No answer. You call again and there’s still no answer, so you leave a message.

A few minutes later, you get a call from the nursing home to inform you that your Grandma had died of a heart attack. She had been your inspiration, your pick me up on the worst of days. You could tell her anything; just talking to her made you feel better. But now… she was gone. And you had missed your last ever chance to see her just so you could be stood up by your boyfriend of three years and insensitively dumped over a Snapchat message.

You lay down and try to sleep, but the only thing you can think of is how lonely you are. No parents— they had died saving your life when you were 11. And you had never completely gotten over that guilt, that feeling that their death was somehow your fault. Then you thought about how Grandma had taken you in, and about all the good memories you two had shared. You started to feel better, until you remembered she died on the day you rescheduled. Your crying becomes even more exasperated now. Your last living family member was no longer living. And of course, no boyfriend. He had been the first guy to actually make you feel loved, to feel like you were important. And on that night, you felt even more helpless and insignificant than you ever had before.

You found yourself bawling; it continued until you fell asleep, and probably after.

Wednesday morning, you wake up feeling great. You check your phone to see that today is Wednesday. That means Tuesday was not a bad dream. That means Tuesday really did happen. And the events of the previous day start to sink in again.

You go outside to get some fresh air and breath. Nature was always your second best defense against negativity, next to Grandma. After a few minutes, you decide to head back inside and make your favorite meal, hoping you can just move on with your life, and forget any of it ever happened.

You check your mail on the way back inside, expecting yet another bill that you can’t afford this month. You shuffle through everything. Advertisement. Advertisement. Credit card application. A random magazine. Another advertisement. And yet another, although this one piques your interest a bit. It’s for an antidepressant. You’ve never been clinically diagnosed as depressed, but you’ve never really felt all that happy either. “This could be nice,” you think. Until you see the price. $127 a month! Not to mention the possible side effects. “Knowing me, I’d get the cramps, the random nose bleeds, the diarrhea, and the temporary loss of vision,” you gripe to yourself.

You walk past your messy room, past your bathroom that you haven’t cleaned in far too long, and into the kitchen, where a pile of dirty dishes is sitting in the sink next to the broken dishwasher that is staring directly at you. You walk over to the garbage can that’s already overflowing, and throw away the stack of papers. As you’re walking away, one of the pieces of mail slides off the pile and gives your heel a nasty paper cut.

You turn around and pick up the envelope, noticing that it’s a letter you had written to yourself years ago. You stop in your tracks, not quite sure what this means. It’s weird how it’s just now arrived, so far into the future that you don’t even remember what it is. It’s from a little over three years ago. You rip open the letter to find a handmade card.

The front of the card reads, “If you’re searching for that one person that will change your life, take a look in the mirror.”

Attached to the back is $50, folded up below another line of words, “You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.”

You take the fifty off the card and the words hidden below seemingly pop out at you, “Use this to treat yourself!” You begin to plot. You are nervous and excited.

On Saturday, you leave for the store to buy everything you need for your plans of “therapeutic revenge.” You stop on the way and put $20 in gas. At the store, you travel through aisle after aisle and your arms start to fill. By the end of the trip, you have spent $21.73 on:

• A pack of Sharpies
• Duck Tape with a fancy design
• A pack of Mentos



You leave the store and go to your ex boyfriend’s house while he’s out hiking with friends. Assuming this hike is like every other weeks’, you know you’ll have plenty of time. You use your key to get in the apartment and head to his bedroom. On the wall, in Sharpie, you write, “here’s your key back,” and place the key below the words you wrote, on the floor. In the bathroom, you write on the mirror with Sharpie,“You played me for three years. Now the real game starts!” and replace his toilet paper roll with the Duck Tape roll.

You go through the house, flipping pictures upside down, taking all of his toilet paper with you. You will take the rolls with you when you leave. You take his large wall clock down and change the time by 15 minutes, knowing that’s the clock he uses when he’s playing video games. You carefully replace the clock. Hopefully the time change will make him late for something.

One last thing! You head to his kitchenette, take out his ice tray, and dump the ice. Each spot gets a Mentos and then filled with water. You replace the ice tray and head back to your car. After loading the toilet paper in your car, you get in and start to drive away, but turn around about a block away to go back. You have decided to TP his house.

After you finish, you decide that you’re done with his revenge. Besides, you can’t afford any more pranks anyway. Let the psychological terror eat him alive!

With the rest of the money, you go to a fast food joint, get a cheap meal, and donate the change to their charitable partner organization. All $50 spent on an amazing day. While eating, sitting back and thinking, you overhear a mother telling her teenage daughter that love must come from inside yourself first and foremost. You don’t want to be intrusive, but you can’t help but listen. And then you hear it:

“You cannot truly love anybody else until you love yourself. Nobody will truly love you until you learn to love yourself. You must set the example for them.”

And it’s in that moment you finally realize that how you love yourself is how you show others the love you think you deserve. You walk over, thank the mother, without being specific as to why, and leave, determined to pull yourself together once and for all.