power
Recently, I’ve been very focused on the process of taking charge of my own life. It started about a year ago. I was in treatment and my assigned psychiatrist was one I had worked with several years ago. I was concerned that she would only see me for who I was back then. I worried that she would let that overshadow who I am today. But the reality was quite different from my expectations. She definitely remembered who I was and used her knowledge of “Past Brittany”, but not to judge and pigeonhole me. She used it to understand me and speak to my soul. I think she is probably the only person in the world who could say what she said without me completely loosing my shit.
She compelled me to engage in some deep introspection. She asked me why I was who and where I was. Point blank. And I realized how long I’ve evaded both responsibility and adulthood. It was embarrassing and shameful. Even now, I can’t believe that I’m writing about it on the internet. Because it is so not cool to admit. Even to myself. That I have been running and running and running for years. Away from everything. Never towards. I had been overwhelmed by fear for over half my life.
Looking back now, I do not blame myself for doing so. I had many reasons and some of them were good. But they were not doing me any sort of service. My inclination to run was only holding me back from leading any sort of life worth living.
And it was in that moment in a cramped office staring at my psychiatrist with tears streaming down my face that I admitted what she already knew. I was the only one standing in the way of the life I hoped for myself. I was the only person holding me back from realizing my full potential. I was the one sabotaging recovery year after year. It was all me. I had no one else to blame.
But the way my psychiatrist led me to this conclusion allowed me to do so with self-compassion. Not judgement of myself for lost time, lost relationships, lost experiences, and lost love. But with a desire to change myself for the future. For today. And in that way, she empowered me like no other provider ever has.
Like I said, that was a year ago. The process is slow, but I have broken down so many barriers. I have let myself feel sorrow and experience grief. I have surrendered myself to rage and explored my anxiety. And by diving into all that is difficult, I have paved a way to joy, contentment, gratitude, and hope. Things I really thought were not in the cards for me.
The biggest hurdle that I have faced for decades has been finding a purpose. I lost everything in college. All that I had worked so hard for. All that I had dreamed of. All that I had hung my future on. It all vanished. Part was taken and part was surrendered of my own accord. I have come to terms with the past and realize that my college years and all that has followed ultimately became the foundation for my new hopes and dreams.
I have spent decades searching for my true passion. Something that excites and directs me. I never ever dreamed it would take so long to find something like that again. Something that gets me excited enough to risk the unknown and the inevitable challenges ahead. But I have. I finally have. And I received the full support and encouragement of people who had seen me at my worst when I discharged from treatment last year.
My life changed drastically in February of this year. The mental health providers that I had seen consistently for the last 15 years were no longer covered by my insurance. I had to find a new therapist and psychiatrist. If I ever have to return to treatment, it will not be with a familiar program. These things may not seem substantial, but they rocked my world for sure.
I found new providers and I have been unimpressed. My appointments with the NP who manages my medication last 5-10 minutes. Luckily I have been stable and on the same meds for a year, so it is no biggie. But I do occasionally worry how he will help me if I start to struggle again. The therapist I started seeing was truly terrible. It was all virtual visits and they were also very short. She didn’t really stay in her lane very well and always had an incredibly unhelpful opinion to offer regarding medical and dietary concerns. So much so that I avoided talking about such topics and would even occasionally lie to avoid her unhealthy views and judgements surrounding food. And that is 100% not like me. I know that therapy is only effective if I am truthful and vulnerable. It was not a good situation.
Luckily my insurance switched yet again on June 1st. One of the therapists I worked with when my “real” therapist was on maternity leave yeeeeeears ago opened a private practice and he accepts my new insurance. YAY!!! I dumped the crappy therapist last week and saw my new therapist yesterday and it was so so refreshing.
He sees patients both in person and virtually. I have not been to an in-person therapy session (outside of treatment) in over a year. Others may disagree, but I think something is lost when therapy is done virtually rather than in-person. Sure, there are benefits to having the ability to meet with someone virtually. But there’s nothing that replaces a face-to-face therapy session.
He is willing to meet me where I am right now and help me grow and walk into the life that I envision for myself. And I am so excited.
We talked about how paralyzing my anxiety used to be. And when I say paralyzing, I mean paralyzing. Life-altering. Incapacitating. He asked me how I overcame that.
And I didn’t have a good answer for him. I told him that was one of the things that worries me. The fact that I could not tell you what set of skills helped me to navigate and overcome that anxiety. It is worrisome because I won’t know how to overcome the anxiety again if and when it returns.
He asked me about mindfulness. And I said no, I don’t really practice mindfulness. Unless you count playing the piano.
On the drive home, I continued to think about our conversation. I remembered that mindfulness is simply being in the present moment without judgement. And I realized just how much I have practiced mindfulness in the past week.
I wouldn’t have called it mindfulness in the moment. It was busy and loud and overwhelming. But boy was I present.
The number of times that I paused, closed my eyes, took a breath, and felt joyful tears in my eyes over the last week? I can’t even count.
Thursday night. Closing Ceremony. Watching the little Primary kids sing their hearts out. Remembering Skylar at that age. Wondering how time could fly by so fast. Watching the Middle Schoolers perform a self-choreographed dance. Hearing Skylar give her speech. Her saying thank you. Realizing that maybe I’ve done something right. Seeing the graduates embrace each other before escaping offstage. Realizing that we made it. That Skylar is turning into a super stellar human and that the fun is just beginning. Realizing that because of the choices I’ve been making, I get to be a part of it. A part of her future. A part of who she continues to become. And just how lucky I am to do so.
Thursday night. Again. Dinner with 30+ people. Talking to parents. Being a part of a celebration. Despite not being able to hear myself think. Despite not hearing half of what the other people were saying. But being included. Having something to talk about. Being a part of the conversation. Not just there but present. What a gift.
Friday morning. Annual Picnic. Not worried about the weather or my outfit or the endless amounts of food. Just spending time with friends and enjoying the fellowship of the people who have been instrumental in Skylar’s educational experience over the past 9 years. Basking in friendships and good food in the shade of the trees.
Friday afternoon and evening. Hershey Park. Strolling. Laughing. Eating. And just being. With teenagers and adults who truly enjoy each other’s company. Who are authentic and genuine and comfortable and accepting.
And at every event and in every way I was present in the moment. Basking in the beauty of all that life has laid before me in simple and complex opportunities. I would truly pause, close my eyes, and say to myself, “Wow. Isn’t this something.”
To see myself move from purposelessness to where I am today in just one short year…I have much to be thankful for. I have much to live for.
And while I am thankful for family, treatment teams, friends, and God…I think it is equally important for me to be thankful to myself. It is my hard work. It is my tough decisions. It is my ACTION that has moved me so far down the path of healing. And it’s important to acknowledge the role that I have played in doing so. Because life isn’t some passive experience. The choices—big and small—that we make each day are what makes life fulfilling, passionate, rich, and joyful. And to deny or minimize the impact of what I have done for myself this year would be the equivalent of running and giving away my power. Something I sincerely hope to never do again.
I love this life far too much. I love my people far too deeply. I love my future far too fiercely.
To ever give away my power again.
