Tim's Story

Finding Purpose on the Other Side of Chaos

“The two most important days of your life are the day you were born and the day you find out why!” 

Mark Twain

Growing up in Calgary, hockey was my first love. I lived for it - it brought me joy and excitement; it made all my thoughts disappear. I was a different person on the ice. I turned out to be a pretty good player! I was a little shit disturber back then, one of the smaller kids on the team that could skate fast and score goals. My coaches and teammates loved me. I had many friends but was bullied by most, and I discovered that "sometimes you don't know who your real friends are". 

I come from a family of five. I have a younger brother and sister; my mother and father have supported me in every possible way, no matter what. I was pretty good in school in the early days of elementary; I excelled and enjoyed it. However, it all started to change upon arriving at middle school in grade seven, and my grades began to fall. I could barely pass any of my courses. I had countless doctor visits; I was going through an identity crisis that no one knew about. My secret was the cause of all this commotion in my life.

It's been three decades since the day the sexual abuse started. The abuse was a secret I held onto for more than 26 years. In those 26 years, it's been a life of mental and emotional anxiety. My ups and downs of head-spinning confusion were caused by the night terrors. I lived a life of lies since I didn't know how to trust anyone anymore. I certainly couldn't tell my parents. I was so scared that they'd take me out of hockey because that's where my abuser lurked.

Hockey was my first true passion as a kid. Reflecting on that cold October morning in Calgary, Alberta, in 1991, I was 11 years of age, and hockey tryouts were in full swing! Then it happened, my abuser manipulated me into thinking this was natural to take place. It felt far from ordinary, and I didn't know how to respond; I was terrified.

I've gone through life living in constant fear, not being able to talk to anyone and recognizing I was different somehow. I was not myself, but I was pretending to be something I wasn't. I was a life lost, learning to observe human behaviors constantly. I did this to protect myself. So many mental health diagnoses were cast upon me from an early age, from ADHD to Depression and Borderline Personality Disorder to being officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder. I've always wondered if my abuse throughout my life had anything to do with my diagnosis. 

I grew up in a great family full of love and support. They made my childhood fun. We did everything together. If we were not at the hockey rink, we were at families' houses with our cousins. I spent most of my time mainly at my grandparents' house growing up. They were like second parents to me. I sure do miss them today as they are now passed on. I know they have been watching over me all these years. (I feel I've had angels watching over me with everything I’ve been through). Yet, all the while, I lived in my bubble, closed off and isolated, and my parents knew it. They were so curious about what was going on; they couldn't guess, and rightfully so, my secret was safe. 

No one knew what was happening to me because I kept my mouth shut about the "incident" and how I felt inside. All I cared about was sports. My waking realization was that sports would always keep me safe mentally. That's all that mattered. From day one, I aspired to be a professional hockey player. It shut my mind off from the chaos inside my head. But, at the age of 15, I was coming around the net in a playoff game and took a slash on the knee. It ended my dream of ever playing hockey again at a high level. I had a torn (ACL/MCL) which led to three right knee surgeries. After much recovery time, I took up the game of golf. It was instant love and success with the game and many people could see my talent for the sport. They saw that I had a natural gift. Soon I was competing against the top players across Canada in various amateur and collegiate tournaments. At the time, I knew this was my calling. I wanted to go pro.

That's what I wanted to do no matter what; nothing else mattered, and none of my friends or acquaintances knew the dark secret I held on to so tightly. I slowly started to deteriorate mentally from the abuse. In 1996 at the age of sixteen, I was considered amongst the top golfers in Alberta. Unfortunately, I missed the golf team by one shot that year. I was devastated but took this as a lesson that I never forgot, "always strive for excellence, not perfection." Later that year, I was introduced to my first beer at a party. I was not too fond of its taste; it was disgusting. But then a joint appeared, and it was passed around the room; I found my new best friend, marijuana. It felt like I was genuinely laughing for the first time in years. It took all my worries and frustrations away.

Regardless of what was happening to me, everything seemed to slide right off my back. I started regularly smoking weed. I couldn't get back to sleep without smoking a joint in the middle of the night. I couldn't go to school without smoking it; I couldn't eat without smoking a joint. I did anything and everything to get my hands on the drug. If I ran out, I was back to square one, lost, depressed, and isolated. At 17, I started stealing car stereos and expensive car emblems to sell for cash. The guilt was there, but I needed my weed. My love for the high carried on into my 20s, and my golf game suffered; I threw away all opportunities to play collegiate golf and threw away university scholarships. 

I had been introduced to the trade of welding by a friend at the age of 16, working weekends. It was an excellent job for a kid that didn't finish high school. I ended up dropping out in my grade 12 year. Welding/ironworking became my new addiction, along with my best friend, marijuana. I was able to make great money for a 17-year-old kid but, it was money to afford my drug habit. I had nothing to show for my earnings but a mean buzz, and that was okay. Life went on like that until a choice changed my life forever.

It was Halloween night in 2002, and the sky was dark, the air was crisp, and the white mountain was positioned high on the kitchen table; as I leaned back in my chair, the sweat was speeding down my forehead. Cocaine had its grip on me. I found another new friend, and unfortunately, my life of addiction escalated from there. After sixteen years of hell, a life of crime, stints in jail, and homelessness, I weighed 135lbs soaking wet, and things were never the same. Finally, I found myself standing outside a detox center in 2008. It was the year I was first introduced to treatment centers and discovered I had an addiction problem. 13 treatment centers over the next ten years and my life still was in utter chaos. 

Although I knew I had a massive problem with drugs and alcohol, it wasn't enough for me to recognize that I could never touch the stuff again. I was in constant denial about the choices and lifestyle I had been living up to this point. I figured I could do it my way, and eventually, things would be okay. I had been seeking help for my addiction throughout Alberta, having attended many treatment centers. Unfortunately, my life from 2005 until 2019 had either been in a jail cell or an institution. None of this chaos was ever enough for me to understand that I needed the help of others. My biggest problem with this going on for so long was the secret that I carried, which dictated my choices over these years. Finally, in 2017 my counsellor at the time and good friend Kerry Gladue, an advocate for adult survivors of childhood sexual abuse helped me unpack my past. At Simon House that year, I finally could release my secret of being abused because I had trusted for the first time and I now knew I wasn't alone. 

Over the next three years, I sought the proper counselling for the abuse, which has also helped me with my mental health issues. I'm currently on the appropriate medication I need to lead an everyday life due to my Bipolar illness. I have found peace within myself that anything is possible if I am willing to be honest with myself and others. Although many negative things have happened to me throughout my life, it doesn't define who I am. I have found my "WHY" in life, and over the past year, I have moved on from welding and am currently a student at Mount Royal University. I am also presently enrolled at Athabasca University, working towards my degree in Psychology and I will eventually obtain my Masters in Counselling.

I look at where I am today and all the help available to me, including many other fellow friends in recovery. I couldn't understand how come the failure rate for successful recovery was so low. The one thing that I see a change in is when "people change into a new career they want and would love to do." They are actively chasing something daily that interests them to the fullest. They don't go on with life wondering "what if." Instead, they have decided to seek their desired dreams. I believe this is the number one thing that makes you want to aspire to a life of fulfillment and happiness. 

My hope for the future is to make a difference in people's lives; however that may look. Today I live my life with no expectations as I have found they only put limits on my true potential. My life is all about appreciation today and what that does for my soul. I have no regrets today, as I see the beauty in everything. Let your life be an expression of what you believe, your recovery will flourish. It has for me. I have finally realized that I have been freely given only one life to live, but one life full of many opportunities. 

Lastly, I want to say a sincere thank you to all the people that work in Mental Health & Addictions. You guys helped me start the necessary transformation required to achieve a better life. For that, I'm forever thankful and genuinely grateful.

God Bless You, 

Tim McGinty