Scar Tissue


I listened to a song by Ian McIntosh called Awakened—one I haven’t heard since maybe 2010 or 2011, maybe even 2008. I’m not entirely sure. It got me thinking about all the places I’ve been and everything I’ve experienced over the last 17 years, ever since I took that road trip across the country. And here I am now, in Colorado.

In September 2023, I visited Traverse City, Michigan—one of the places I’d stopped during that 2008 road trip. The first time I was there, it was dark, and I had no idea how beautiful it was in the daylight. Seeing it again felt like entering a whole new world. It was exciting, especially because nostalgia usually lies—but this time, it was actually better the second time around. It was stunning. I got to go in the water, take some incredible photos of the lighthouses and the beach, and really experience the place.

I started thinking about all the jobs I’ve had and the difficulties that came with them—everything from dangerous work environments to high-level technical challenges. I thought about all I had to give up to move to Colorado, and about returning to Christ, how everything has come full circle. The depth I needed to walk through to be able to experience and truly live in what I have right now.

As the song played, I kept thinking about how much I’ve grown—and how much I still have to grow. It’s sobering. I know I’m standing on the edge of something incredible. Even though it’s not fully in front of me yet, I know it’s there. I feel like it’s always been there; it’s just hard to see when you’re constantly working, overwhelmed by trauma, and haunted by horrific images of sexual assault and domestic violence.

But there has been a way out. Jesus has been showing me who He is and the incredibly deep love He has for us. I haven’t felt this good since before I started uncovering all this trauma. Yes, I’ve had some good therapy, but the difference I’ve noticed in my emotional regulation has been incomparable. I feel at peace. I can rest. I can enjoy who I am as a person—and I’ve always been my own worst enemy.

Thankfully, I’m not the same person I was when I first listened to that song. Back then, I was out for my own adventure. And while I still am, it’s different now. It’s about serving and helping other people, not being self-seeking.

There’s so much more at stake than how I feel or how I might perceive the world around me. I’m enjoying the life I never thought I’d be able to obtain. There is so much more to this life than what you see.

Unknown's avatar

Published by: northwoodn0tes

Hi, I’m Alan, and I’m so grateful you’re here. This space is the result of a long, treacherous journey — one marked by survival, healing, and ultimately, freedom. I'm a survivor of sexual assault and domestic violence, experiences that once left me feeling isolated and voiceless. For years, my mental health felt like an endless storm. But through the wreckage, I discovered the profound importance of genuine friendship — those rare connections, both near and far, that see you, believe you, and stand with you. One of my greatest joys now is sondering — pausing to marvel at the rich, complex lives of the people who have crossed my path and helped stitch together the fabric of my healing. Each bond, no matter how brief or lasting, has been a spark of hope. My story is also one of movement — not just emotional, but physical. I made the leap to Colorado, seeking a new chapter and the freedom to live more authentically. Here, among the wide skies and new beginnings, I am reclaiming joy, learning to thrive, and offering my story to others who may need a reminder that freedom is possible. Thank you for being a part of this journey, Mr. Northwood

Tags, , Leave a comment

Leave a Reply