I’ll never forget that Sunday evening in December of 2014 when my friend Christine took several photos of me. It was our weekly drink-wine-and-laugh-our-asses-off day. We were having a great time. Then, Christine showed me the pictures, and I saw myself clearly for the first time in over a year. I had spent the last two years drinking almost every night. When the photographs were taken I weighed 185 lbs, and for someone whose “normal” weight hovered around 140 lbs., I was considerably overweight. Depression can take a toll on the mind, body, and spirit.
In January of 2012 I moved back to my home town to begin college–I was 24 and hadn’t been more than a semester prior. Interestingly enough, I began my first semester of college in 2012 just as Jupiter returned to the place it was when I was born (my second Jupiter return). What I didn’t know was that I wasn’t only getting a bachelor’s degree–no, I was also getting a degree in painful and transformative life experiences.
During my first several months back home I became reacquainted with my ex, my first love. Ever since I met C in 2008 I was madly in love with him. Well, at least that’s what my young mind and body believed at the time. We hadn’t parted on good terms, so becoming friends with him after almost four years felt incredibly good. Secretly, I hoped to maybe rekindle the flame, but we remained friends for months. I would spend time at the place he worked (a local pub) and wait until he got off work so we could drink together.
I kept up the charade that I was only wanting friendship. I remained jealous of his boyfriend at the time, and from what I know about his now ex (N), I am not sure I’ll ever have warm feelings toward him. Part of the problem was my fault, and I readily admit that to anyone who asks, but I was also young when some of the events transpired. Regardless about what anyone thinks, adulthood doesn’t come at an arbitrarily ascribed time.
In 2009, after C and I broke up, I had a very bad wreck while living with my grandmother that involved the loss of my license for a few months, and I moved from the countryside–where my grandmother lived–to the city. If you don’t believe in fated circumstances, well allow me to introduce you to a few. The house I moved into just happened to be right in front of the house that C’s new boyfriend lived. When I met N I realized that it wasn’t actually the first time we had met. I was terrified that N would tell C about the circumstances surrounding our first meeting. Bear with me as I share some important details.
After I graduated high school in 2006 I moved out of my parents’ house and moved in with a friend and her boyfriend. The guy turned out to be a drug addict, and the living situation wasn’t ideal…to say the least. Eventually I ended up living with some “friends” on a couch in a trailer. We went out and got drunk most nights. One night I happened to get extra drunk and the people I was living with did something to upset me that I couldn’t remember.
It was dark and raining, and I was intent on walking the mile or so back to the bar to get my vehicle. I set off in the rain and my friends followed me in their car. I was drunk, crying, and incredibly upset. Then, one of them bumped me with the car and I fell onto the asphalt. Eventually they gave up and I found my way to the main highway.
However, out of the dark night sirens sounded and a police officer stopped on the side of the road and forced me into his vehicle. He looked at my ID and told me that he was going to take me to my parents’ house. This was far worse than anything, because I had moved out after graduation to escape an abusive situation. The officer was unyielding, so I did the only thing I could think to do: I told him that I was suicidal so he would take me to the hospital. He kept trying to convince me to just go to my parents’ house, but I wasn’t going to do that regardless of what happened. So, he took me to the hospital.
I was admitted and transported to an inpatient facility. I was never truly suicidal, but it was my only recourse at the time. The psychiatrist at the facility put me on drugs and I encountered people with severe mental illness and addictions. It was one of the scariest moments of my young life. What does an 18-year-old know about the darkness in the world? At night, a mental health tech was assigned to my room to ensure that I didn’t harm myself. This brings me back to N. He was the tech assigned to my room three years prior to becoming C’s boyfriend.
As I mentioned before, I was terrified when I saw N again. I was incredibly concerned that he would divulge my incident to the guy who I still loved…the guy who broke my heart. So, attempted to befriend N since he lived right behind me. We started spending time together. One afternoon he invited me over for some wine, and one thing led to another…
Did I regret it? Yes. The memory haunted me for years. It still does at times.
Saturn in Scorpio 10/5/2012: The Harvest of Secrets Revealed
As most who study astrology know, the energy of Scorpio deals in the hidden, mysterious, and occult. All those things we keep secret from others–the skeletons in the proverbial closet–are Scorpio traits, and this is also connected to the 8th house. Scorpio also deals in emotional intensity and transformations. After my experiences with Saturn in Scorpio, I wouldn’t rush to say that Saturn represents restrictions as much as reaping. Wherever Saturn visits their is a harvest associated with the sign or house.
After months of C and I warming up to each other again and becoming friends, we got drunk together one night over a bottle of Jose Cuervo, and C invited me back to his house. We kissed for a few hours and cuddled all night. The wound in my heart throbbed. My mind wondered if there might just be hope yet. I was wrong. Shortly thereafter I heard rumors that C and N were hanging out again. Me, genuinely caring about C, agonized over what I knew about N.
I was so angry. For one, it seemed like I could never get what I wanted–C just never would love me. Then, I knew that this other guy didn’t love C. Seriously, everyone knew that N cheated on C with multiple people (except for the secret that only N and I knew).
Eventually, after a couple of months, I decided to tell C about the affair. I sincerely had no intention other than protecting him from N. There was no ulterior motive at this point, because I realized that I needed to move on from the idea of a relationship. So, after a night of drinking with C I told him the truth. He was incredibly upset. Later that night I remember him texting me and begging me to tell him that it wasn’t true. He told me that he would forget I ever mentioned it if I just recanted on my story. I refused.
From this point onward I never spoke to C again–per his request. I’ve often thought about him and wondered how he is, but we’ve had no contact.
Sometime afterward I blacked out one night after drinking and was raped by a guy I had turned down on several occasions. About a month later C would go on to date this person–he even made out with him in front of me at a bar one night.
Shortly afterward there was a house party where I was living, and I drunkenly hooked up with someone I liked (an ex of one of my best friends). At this point I realize that I was a troubled young man, and I wasn’t exactly in a great place mentally or emotionally. Only a week after this, the same guy I slept with was murdered in an armed robbery. I completely broke down. This was the only time during college when I almost dropped out. At the time I thought that I couldn’t handle any more loss. I spent the next two years drowning myself in alcohol every night. It’s still amazing that I graduated with a 3.5 GPA.
In 2013 my grandmother’s health began to decline after her 82nd birthday. A year later, in April of 2014, while on a trip out of town for spring break, I lost my grandmother. “Why didn’t I stop to see her before leaving town?” I hated myself. I was so ashamed of my selfishness. This loss was the greatest I had ever experienced, even more difficult than losing my father. She wasn’t only my grandmother–she was like a mother to me, and she was my best friend. At the wake I cried for two hours before having to leave. The next day I spoke at her funeral in front of an overcrowded church.
Behold, All Things are Made New
So, at the end of 2014, when Christine took the pictures of me at my heaviest weight, I was at the very end of my experience with Saturn in the 12th house. The weight I had acquired wasn’t only physical–the weight was a mental, emotional, and spiritual heaviness that manifested outwardly in my physical body. Saturn’s transit of my 12th house was probably one of the most painful periods in my life.
In January of 2015 Saturn ingressed into Sagittarius, I stopped drinking (mostly), began exercising every day, and began losing weight. For the next two years I would go on to start counseling, graduate college, and explore who I had become–with a sober mind. The process hasn’t been easy, but astrology became the lens through which I began to understand the unconscious impulses of my life–their light guiding me onward to an illuminated destination of which I cannot yet comprehend.
Now I am building a new life and identity, one centered on the awareness of who I am and personal accountability. So far, I can see that Saturn represents the hope of change. As my Saturn return approaches I am taking advantage of the opportunity to choose how the next 30 years will be directed, and for that I am eternally grateful.
I hope to never forget the lessons Saturn taught me about life while making his way through my house of self undoing, and my experiences with the “Lord of Karma” have hardened and matured me. I’m thankful to be alive. Healing began in 2015, and I’m walking in the peace of knowing that although challenges may come…life goes on.