Today was my second last Edmonton group.
I’m not going to lie, I have butterflies in my stomach and am having a significant case of second thoughts. However, the date is set, and next week will be my last journey to the city for group.
I think I would be more concerned if I wasn’t nervous. I have invested the last 5 years of my life in getting better, and recovering my mental health. I’m not entirely sure what my next step is going to be, especially now that I am going to be taking a step back from treatment.
I know I have a solid safety plan in place, and a solid support system. I am loving my job as a freelance reporter. I am loving writing in general. Yet I am scared. Scared that I am stepping away from a major piece of my life, scared of what the future may hold. I know where I have been, I know where it is possible to go, and going back there scares the living crap out of me.
I am comfortable where I am, and don’t know how I am going to structure my life now that I am walking away from this piece of it.
But here’s the rub: Nobody has accomplished anything significant by being comfortable. I feel like an old time sailor, heading for the horizon in search of the new world. As scared as I am, my pulse beats with exhilaration, with the adventure of what I’m going to find over the horizon.
I don’t know what tomorrow is going to bring, but I am going to live it with adventure in my heart, and to the fullest that I can. I am going to live it with the attitude that I have a new lease on life. I know I am going to struggle, I know I am going to stagger, and question myself and my abilities. It is the nature of the disease that courses through my brain.
But I am going to stand up one time more than I fall, and when the end does befall me, as it does for everyone, I will face my fate standing tall, knowing God is carrying me and knowing that as hard as life tried to crush me, it failed.
Thanks for joining me on my journey,