I think feeling alone has to be one of the hardest feeling for me to handle…
I sit here, in the dark, alone.
So alone that I can’t think of a single person I can reach out to to help ease the pain.
That is terrifying.
And what makes it even worse is that I don’t even know how I got here. How I got to a place of having nobody. Because I certainly used to have plenty.
My life has become a spiral of nothingness. I go to work, through which I find no joy. I go to school, through which I find no joy. And then I sleep. I sleep because I have nothing else to enjoy. I sleep in hope of easing the pain. I sleep because sleep is my only friend. I sleep because I have no other option.
And yet I’m exhausted. I’m tired of having no joy, no hope, no goal to strive toward, no purpose.
It’s an emptiness in my chest that resembles a black hole. So large, so dark, so void of anything that signifies life…
So where do I go from here?
Something has to change, but what? I’m stuck at my job, I go to school online, my options feel so limited.
So here I sit trying to think of a single person I can reach out to as my mind crawls towards the darkest corners of existence…
Sometimes my sight gets blurry and distorted. Not my actual sight. My eyes work just fine. But the eyes of my soul. The eyes of my heart.
It’s so easy to get swept up in all that is wrong in the world. I’m so quick to get lost in my past, angry about my present, and confused about my future.
I lose sight.
I forget that what I’ve gone through isn’t in vain. I didn’t experience the pain, loss, and fear for nothing.
This life is not about this life. This life is about so much more.
I get caught up. Caught up in the mundane. The drama. The depression. The anxiety. The fear. The repetition. The artificial.
I lose sight.
I find myself falling back into thoughts of self destruction, feelings of self pity, and actions that don’t represent who I want to be.
But I am meant for so much more. My story was given to me for a purpose. To help and to serve. To live and to love. To share and to give.
But as long as I sit still, overcome by this world, my story is in vain. And that is not what it is meant to be.
As hard a fight as it may be I have to keep standing up. I have to keep speaking up. I have to keep taking actions that will progress me towards the person I want to be.
And I want to be someone who serves. Who loves. Who gives. Who fights. Who reaches into the deepest darkest corners of this world to bring hope where there was once despair.
I want to be someone who remembers that every single person is fighting a battle. I want to be someone full of compassion and grace.
I want to be someone who shows the world the heart of God.
I want to bring light.
Sometimes I get to thinking about how much I miss treatment.
I say that out loud and realize how crazy that may sound to others. But the reality is that the connections created in and through treatment are unlike anything else. At least for me..
I never had much of a family. Don’t take me wrong, I absolutely adore and love my mom and sister but my family is so filled with disfunction and suffering that the bonds we have always had have been very unhealthy.
Through treatment I found my family. I found people who heard me, listened to me, and understood me. I found people who loved me despite my pain, despite my past, and despite my mistakes. I found people who helped me identify, embrace, and cherish the most beautiful parts of myself. I found people who encouraged me to honor and love the little girl in me who never felt loved as a child. I found people who wanted to help me carry my burdens. People who wanted to be with me at my best and my worst. I found people who would never leave.
So sometimes I find myself daydreaming about the beautiful people who I would have never met had it not been for treatment.
It’s crazy how the most beautiful things in life can also be the most painful. But without the pain meaning is lost.
We can’t appreciate the light without darkness and we can’t endure darkness without the hope of light.
So thank you to my family. I miss every single one of you who has offered me your heart.
My love and gratitude is beyond explanation.
Almost 4 years ago I walked into Rosewood, my first time being in treatment and definitely not my last. Only in the last 6 months or so have I finally started to discover what it means to live and not just survive. Although it took a lot longer than I ever anticipated for me to get to this point, I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
For so long I thought recovery was about following a set of guidelines: follow your meal plan, don’t use behaviors, go to therapy, use your coping tools, etc. and while those things are a part of recovery, it is so much greater than that. It is finally feeling like the people and experiences in your life are worth the fight. It’s realizing that even though recovery is hard, it is 100% better than being in your disorder.
It’s enjoying life rather than fighting to be in recovery.
In the last 6 months, I’ve gotten my own place, been blessed with a great job that I am excelling in, I’m going back to school, but the piece that has made all the difference has been allowing myself to enjoy doing life with people, trying new things, laughing, taking risks, living in the moment, and allowing myself to be 22 years old and make mistakes. Do I fall off track and make bad choices? Totally! But that’s the beauty of recovery and life, it was never meant to be perfect!
A huge piece of my story involves a lifetime of abuse from my father and as terrifying as it is do the trauma work in therapy, I am FINALLY able to. For so many years I tried but it always pushed me back into my disease. Now, I can do the work and still be in recovery. Does it suck sometimes? Absolutely. But I can do it. I have no idea what I’m meant to do in this lifetime but for now I know I am doing everything I can to enjoy my life and be present in my life NOW, and that has made all the difference.