The Mirror is about reflections—those raw, unfiltered moments when you’re forced to see yourself as you are. Many of the writings in this section didn’t survive the edits. Some were mindless, almost laughable now. But I kept a few in the book because they remind me of who I was back then. They make me grin when I think about how far I’ve come.
But it wasn’t always like that. I remember a time when I was consumed by disgust and self-loathing. Negative thoughts piled up, hammering at the door to my mind. I was drowning in them, unable to stay present, unable to quiet the noise.
Agitated, I retreated to the bathroom. I needed space—distance from others and the chaos around me. I splashed cold water on my face, over and over, trying to shock myself awake, to summon calm from somewhere deep within.
And then I looked up.
In the mirror, I met my own eyes. For a moment, it was like staring into someone else—a fractured version of myself, frantic and lost in the darkness of my pupils. Hot tears mixed with the cold water on my skin. I didn’t want to keep looking. I wanted to break away, to run from the reflection of pain and anguish staring back at me.
But then it hit me: running wasn’t going to save me. It never had. And the very idea that I was willing to go back to that pit of despair—back to pain—made me furious. Here I was, face to face with the only person who had the power to save me.
So I stayed. I faced myself with everything I had left. Tears streamed down my face. My body trembled under the weight of a thousand anxious emotions. But I didn’t move. I stared deeper and asked the questions I’d been avoiding: What’s wrong? Who are you? This isn’t who I am! I begged for answers from somewhere inside myself.
Eventually, the moment passed. I splashed more water on my face, breathed deeply, and let the darkness settle into stillness. I dried off, opened the door, and stepped back into life—different, but still standing.
That was one of many defining moments in this section. The Mirror became a space where I reflected on my deepest struggles and began to understand myself. Looking back now, I’m grateful for those painful moments. The contrast between who I was and who I am today is stark, blatant, and beautiful.
Today, when I look in the mirror, I see no tears—only a man who keeps moving forward. (G chuckles).