Speaking with my therapist in Stettler today, he said that there is no comparison between where I started and where I am now.
Despite my struggles in recent days, I am inclined to agree with him. I’m feeling more confident on a daily basis. I’m getting busier, but not getting overwhelmed. I’m learning to stay within my limits, but stretch them when required.
I told him about the grad, about the keynote speaker, and how it impressed upon me to seek out the video of that admiral’s speech, and how it led me to another motivation video.
I told him how I still struggle, but I’m maintaining better than I used to; about how I’ve had some realizations about this recovery journey I’m on, and how this recovery is not a destination but a journey for life, and a journey I have to work at every single day.
He said he hasn’t seen me looking how I am now on any of my admissions into hospital when we crossed paths before. He agrees with M, that the writing is helping me find value in myself. It’s helping me find my reason for being here.
To tell the truth, sometimes my world now feels like a dream, a dream that can turn into a nightmare at any time. Some days it feels like my writing, and my very life, are hanging by the proverbial thread.
Other days I look at the last couple of years, and wonder how it all came together. How I have become a person in my community who gets to chronicle the modern day history of our community for future generations. I feel it is an honour to do what I do.
I look at what I’ve accomplished, but I alone know the blood, sweat, and tears I’ve put into my recovery. I did not get here by accident. I got here by hard work. That knowledge is tempered by the fact that as good as I feel today, tomorrow may be different.
Tomorrow the beast inside may awaken, the depression could come crashing back down, and I could again be holding on for dear life. It’s easy to say “remember how you feel now in the bad times” but it is something completely different when you are in the throes of a living hell, trapped in a prison of your own mind.
It’s been barely two months since I got out of hospital after my last admission. I know how fast it can all come crashing down on top of me. It’s been a week since I called the distress line because of how overwhelmed I was getting while Lynn was away.
Even with those steps backward, I feel like I’m moving in the right direction. I’m weathering the storms better and better each time, and though I may stumble, I keep getting back up, a spark inside me nearly smothered, but waiting for the oxygen to reignite it.
Today, I had a good appointment. It was a good inventory of my journey so far. I can’t become complacent though. I need to keep working. I need to keep doing the little things that help me stay healthy. I need to keep in mind that setbacks will happen, and get help accordingly. I need to push myself, go with the right not the easy.
Today I feel like I have more hope inside than I’ve had in a very long time.