the long haul
It’s been a little over 6 months since officially discharging from treatment. Which might not sound too significant. But to me it is. And it hasn’t been 6 months of a struggle just to hang on. It’s been 6 months of healthy choices that cumulatively are leading me to a life worth living. A purpose and—often—a joy. Both of which I thought I’d thrown away my right to years ago.
Recently on Facebook I’ve been bombarded by photographs from 10 years ago. Our family trip to Disney World in 2014. And all the pictures have gotten me to thinking about how much my life has changed in 10 years. It feels so recent yet so distant simultaneously.
In 2014 we spent Spring Break in Disney World. I graduated with my AA from Carroll Community College. I began a job that I kept for 7 years. I stood by my sister as she got married. I admitted to relapse and sought treatment. I said goodbye to a very dear friend and later to an incredible support system that had lifted me up and encouraged me to be my best self.
I won some and I lost some. Things happened in 2014 that will truly define this period of my life for eternity. I’ve lived the past 10 years in an echo chamber erected in a year of joy and pain.
But now I have a choice. I mean I’ve always had a choice. I could have made this choice at any point in the past decade. But anniversaries have a tendency to afford us the opportunity to reflect and commit to change. So recently I’ve made a choice. To move towards the vibrancy and life I existed within during this time 10 years ago.
When I had just gotten back from an incredible vacation. When I was preparing myself for the celebration of graduation…truly a victory. When my relationships were deep and enriching. When my future looked bright and shiny and exciting.
Knowing that the joy and potential will be laced with struggle and sorrow, but deciding to embrace the future anyway. To recreate the mindset of endless possibility within the brokennness.
I have spent the last 6 months moving towards this new reality. Volunteering at the senior center, making music, reading books, writing, addressing health concerns, spending time deep in thought, creating art, re-establishing relationships, cooking, baking, attending church, and day-dreaming of what I envision for myself and my family both today and in the future.
I have a picture in my mind of what all of this looks like to me. But I also know that plans are made to be wrecked. So I hold it loosely in palm of my hand and allow it to morph daily in a way that gives me hope.
I know that our time on earth is finite, but I also know how foolish it is to limit myself on the basis of my age and milestones I have failed to achieve during my brief existence on this planet.
I embrace all that I have. Supportive parents, an incredibly kind and smart and funny daughter, access to healthcare, adoring pets, a strong foundation in recovery, and a dream to leave a legacy. With a confidence that I have the ability to achieve and fulfill my potential. A confidence that was lost just about 20 years ago.
Which means facing a lot of fears and doing a lot of hard work. Treatment is just the beginning. It unlocks a path to any future you yearn to create. But the real work begins once you realize that what you want is more than what you have. That you don’t have to settle for the cards you were dealt. That you are meant for more. That pain and suffering is NOT your legacy. That freedom and purpose and unconditional love ARE.
So I’m on this path for the long haul. I decide to gaze at my destination only briefly. Long enough to fuel my desire without being overwhelmed by the timeline and the brush that covers portions of the trail.
Surely this path can be no harder than the battle I’ve fought for my life. And surely it will be a sweet sweet victory to reach my destination. Which will only be yet another beginning.
