Here is the full transcript of Josh Galarza’s talk titled “How Self-Forgiveness Saved My Life” at TEDxNewburgh conference.
Mental health advocate Josh Galarza’s talk, “How Self-Forgiveness Saved My Life,” is a profound and touching exploration of the transformative power of forgiveness, particularly self-forgiveness, in overcoming personal turmoil and emotional pain. Galarza shares his deeply personal journey of grappling with intense anger and resentment towards a man who caused significant distress to his family, which eventually led to a path of self-destruction and despair.
He describes how the unexpected news of the man’s suicide, compounded by the revelation of the man’s mental illness, ignited a complex emotional battle within him, highlighting the heavy burden of unforgiveness. Throughout his talk, Josh emphasizes the realization that forgiveness is not just an act extended to others but a crucial step towards healing oneself. He candidly discusses the dark moments of his life, including battling depression, suicidal thoughts, and the challenging process of coming to terms with his past actions and decisions.
Galarza’s turning point came when he discovered the true essence of forgiveness, leading him to forgive himself and, in doing so, fundamentally change the course of his life. His story is a powerful testament to the idea that self-forgiveness can be a lifeline, offering a second chance at peace and wholeness.
Listen to the audio version here:
TRANSCRIPT:
Settling into Bed
You’re settling into bed after a long day of work. You pull the covers up, find a comfortable position, and you close your eyes. You’re replaying the day in your head and suddenly you remember something someone did or said to you. You’re laying there consumed with anger because what they did is completely unforgivable.
You start to imagine all the comebacks that you should have said, and every “as a matter of fact,” you’re going to shout the next time you encounter each other. Imagine what they did caused you so much pain that you hoped and prayed for their death that night and every night that followed. Imagine after countless nights of this routine, you wake up to a phone call that this very same person has committed suicide. I received that phone call nine years ago.
The Value of Forgiveness
My inability to forgive taught me just how valuable forgiveness is. My mother was dating a gentleman who was leaving notes around the house along the lines of “clean up this toilet by tonight or sleep with one eye open,” or “pick up this mess if you know what’s good for you.” He threatened me often, never in front of my mother and never actually following through with the threats, but I slept with my door barricaded and a screwdriver by my bedside just in case. I lived in fear.
I never told anybody about this fear, especially not my mother. I didn’t want to be that burden on her shoulders. She deserved a relationship and if I got in the middle of that, I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself. I kept this secret life of fear buried deep inside, learning to avoid home unless she was there because that’s when he was a nicer version of himself.
One night, my mother wasn’t home and this gentleman and I got into a heated argument. The cops were called. Get this. He pulled me, a 15-year-old kid, aside and said, “Son, you need to find a place to stay tonight and you need to learn how to respect your elders.”
That’s when I knew I had to leave Texas and move back to New York. Leaving my mother behind worried me. What if he decided to hurt her? I mean, I knew she could handle herself. She is a mother of three kids after all, but I’m a mama’s boy. Worrying is what I do. My worries came true. She had to come home to him, cutting up the furniture with a razor blade and attempting to light it on fire inside of the apartment.
He told her that if she tried to put it out, that he was going to cut her up too. Thankfully, she got away and called the police, who took care of the situation. This time, she called me panicking, telling me about what happened, and I was so consumed with anger. Without a care about my job or actions, I booked the next flight down to Texas, the whole way down, imagining the pain I wanted to cause this man.
Seeking Revenge
I wanted to beat him to a pulp, trap him inside of a burning room, listen to his screams until he felt the pain that he caused my family. Yet, he didn’t get released, and he wasn’t going to be. For over a year, I hoped and prayed for this man’s death, thinking, “I hope he gets taken off this earth before I see him because if not, I am going to take him myself.” For over a year, I saw his face in every 50-year-old cigarette-smoking, long-haired man that I had met.
Every time I heard “Who are you?” by The Who come on the radio, I would grip my steering wheel with white knuckles, slam on the gas pedal with anger, because he always sang that song. For over a year, I walked around every corner imagining I would see him, so I can get revenge for my family. For over a year, the thought of this man consumed my every second of life.
For over a year, I called my mom every Wednesday night, asking her how she was doing and if she was okay, until one day, my phone rang. It was my mom. It wasn’t Wednesday. It was just afternoon.
A Moment of Realization
I picked up. “He passed away last night, Joshua. He took his own life. He’s dead.” You see, he hasn’t taken to a mental institution. He had a brain tumor this whole time, and it was making him bipolar. My inability to forgive this man was something he couldn’t even control.
His personal demons, my inner war.
I had been battling the pain that he caused me, all while he was battling a mental illness. I failed to forgive him, instead of hoping for his death. Now, I started out by asking you to imagine what that would be like, hoping and praying for somebody’s death, and then finding out that it came true. Now, feel, if you can, the heavy weight of guilt a person holds after hearing their deepest, darkest wish had come true.
I was in my own personal hell. I started to lose weight. My eyes were sunken in. I had this recurring nightmare where I could hear his screams, and I would wake up in chills. I distanced myself from friends and families. I stopped returning calls and texts. I remember, I was at a stop sign, two blocks away from my own home, and I had no idea where I was. I had no idea where I was going, and I couldn’t have even told you my own name.
I burst out into tears. The only thought in my head was, “Why didn’t I forgive him? Why didn’t I forgive him?” You see, in that moment, I was ready to die too. Thankfully, fate had a friend call. I confessed my heavy guilt, my inner battle, and my suicidal thoughts. He demanded that I go and get help. I went to a doctor, and I was prescribed antidepressants.
Seeking Help
You see, I had been getting stuck in my own head and overthinking literally everything, and it was causing my brain not to send chemical signals back and forth properly. The meds were supposed to help balance that out. It kind of worked, sort of. I wasn’t anxious or depressed anymore.
I was okay, but I never really was great. I started to get back in touch with old friends, and I felt like a shell of myself. Something just wasn’t right. I would think about what happened to me, and I would say, “You know what, it is what it is. I’m fine now. It’s okay.” Still unable to forgive. You see, my emotions were in the back of my mind.
By the time they got to the front of my mind, the antidepressants made them go away. I went on this way for a few years, and I really didn’t mind it all that much. You know, I was better than I was before I was taking them. And then, my 26th birthday arrived.
The Struggle with Medication
And if you are unaware, it is at this age that you no longer be on your parents’ health insurance anymore. This meant I wasn’t going to get my antidepressants anymore. I was about to suffer worse than ever before. Withdrawals from medication are an unimaginable horror, deep, rotten anger, sunken emotions, suicidal thoughts, relentless pain.
I had been diagnosed with the problem, but I didn’t know if I was ever going to be okay. I saw shadow figures that weren’t there. I heard whispers that had no source. I felt phantom touches in the dark. My senses went haywire. With all this going on, I couldn’t handle being alone. I was afraid of what I might do to myself, so I would just go out in public places, just get lost in the crowd, just be out. I started to read book after book after book, which turned into me writing page after page after page.
Discovering Forgiveness
And this is when I stumbled upon an old idea I hadn’t picked up in a while, forgiveness. You see, we as human beings are taught that in order to forgive, a person must first ask for forgiveness. They must apologize. It is only once a person apologizes that we decide whether or not to forgive them. They did something wrong. They have to resolve the situation. And until then, we’re just going to stay back, ignore them, and be angry. This couldn’t be further from the truth.
In order to forgive someone, that person doesn’t even have to know that we are forgiving them. This is for us, not for them. We forgive ourselves to rid ourselves of that weight, that anger that we hold onto. We forgive because that person doesn’t know any better.
So, I went out, and I would forgive and forgive everyone and everything. I forgave that man for what he did to my mother. I forgave him for having one moment of weakness. I forgave friends and family for not really understanding what I was going through.
I had my own personal demons that I had to figure out, and I had to be alone in order to do that. I started to feel whole again. Even after forgiving everyone and everything, something still wasn’t right. I found myself home alone one night.
The Final Step to Forgiveness
Nobody was home to hear me cry. I laid down in my bed, and I stared up at my ceiling, full of tears, and I dialed the suicide hotline. And in that moment, something overcame me. I can’t tell you what it is. I don’t know if it’s because I was on my last second of wanting to live, but something overcame me, and my life changed. There was still one last person I had left to forgive: myself.
You see, we don’t always make the right decisions. We don’t walk through life making the right choices, and we’re not going to go through life without hurting somebody’s feelings. And that’s okay. Self forgiveness takes time. It takes courage. We must forgive everyone and everything, and understand that by doing that, we are letting go of the weight, the anger that we hold on to, and then forgive ourselves for holding on to that weight in the first place.
Now, throughout my talk tonight, I’m sure that some of you have had a person or a situation come to mind where you should have put forgiveness first. I want you to take that home with you tonight, please. I beg you, whether you’re here with me or you’re at home watching this, I want you to take that home with me, or with you. I want you to forgive that person.
After that, I want you to take it one step further, and I want you to forgive yourself. It’s going to take time, and it’s going to take courage. To all of you that will do this, I want to congratulate you in advance. Your best and brightest days are just ahead.