4 January 2009
2128
Things in my life are changing again. This time, for the better. It’s been a long time since I have been able to sit quietly with myself long enough to interpret my thoughts in writing. Too long, really. My last odyssey of self-discovery began in 2004 amidst a chaotic breakup. I began seeing a therapist. I moved to a new place and went travel nursing. I left home to find myself. Cliché, yeah. But it is essentially what I tried to do. I was raped. Twice. Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans, devastating my family and throwing my life off track. I stayed in Illinois for a while with a kind friend who supported me through what can only be called a nervous breakdown. I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder, Type 2. I began a long process of trying new medication cocktails in order to feel normal again. My withdrawal from life became pretty much complete. I cut myself off from everything. If I felt, it was sadness or, at times, an overwhelming sense of emptiness. In the spring of 2006, I bought a car and drove back to Louisiana. I stayed with my parents briefly while I looked for an apartment of my own. There was nothing to be had after the storm. My father literally threw me out on the street because I am Wiccan. I lived in hotel rooms for a month. I got a local nursing position that paid for my apartment. I let someone move in with me, someone who turned out to be a very bad decision. He hit me. He lied and stole. He tore my already shaky self-esteem to shreds. I hurt my ankle, lost the job and had nowhere else to go. I stayed with him. My isolation was complete. I slipped one day and broke down to my best friend in California. She offered me an opportunity to move across the country; I took it.
I moved to California in June of 2007. It was the best thing I ever did. It took me about a year to come out of the numbness. I now know I was pretty bad off; my best friend wanted to kill me at times but she put up with me. I will always appreciate that. I started seeing a wonderful psychiatrist in January 2008; by early summer, my mood was much better. I had Gastric Bypass Surgery on August 5, 2008. I had been fighting to have this surgery for years. It was the first step in reclaiming my life. I turned 30 in September. The way I figure it, since my 20’s sucked ass my 30’s are going to rock. This decade is for me.
Which brings me to the present. A new year, a new outlook. Isn’t that the way it is supposed to work? I feel like the proverbial ugly duckling who just might, with a little bit of luck, grow into a swan. It’s not all physical. I’m working on myself emotionally, spiritually and physically. I’m not as passive as I used to be. I am making change. I go to a weekly DBT group. I go to my many doctor’s appointments and to see my personal trainer. I’ve lost 84 pounds since my surgery. My mood is lifting and overall, things are looking up.
I have a lot more work to do internally. I thought many of my abuse issues were solved. In reality, by choosing to refrain from dating I just put the problem into suspended animation. I’ve recently agreed to go on a “sort-of date” with someone; all my issues came flooding back with a vengeance. The anxiety, with all its nasty somatic symptoms was back. I broke down one night, about a week ago and reached out to an online friend. He’s a wonderful person who has one of the most beautiful souls I’ve seen. Anyway. We’ve been ‘net friends for like, 4 years. Wow. We’ve gone over my issues at length. And I’m seeing things in a different way. I feel calmer, more sure about my future. I know now that I need to create the reality I desire; life is too short to waste on misery. I need to stop worrying so much. Especially about the way I am perceived. It’s time to break that unhealthy habit of hiding from the world. I have nothing to be ashamed of. I am not the loathsome monster I seem to think I am. It is time to accept and assimilate my past and present in order to move to the future. Lovely concept, isn’t it? I am a beautiful person. Somehow, that part sunk in. I may not believe it 100% yet, but the caring words of a friend have begun to unravel three decades worth of negative self-talk. In my friend, I have a mirror to look into. I have to take a long, hard, unbiased look at myself and at my beliefs. For the first time in years, I think I am liking what I see.
So here I am. Thinking more clearly, looking into my psyche. I am feeling again. I am dreaming. I’m even writing again (albeit badly, but still…). I think I am on the right path to becoming whole.
