Things have not gone as expected. Food is fine, but life is…not, which, I guess, is a part of life. However, I’ve been so used to the hurdles I come across being the ones I’ve created, that actually being exposed to obstacles I can’t resolve and did not cause has been extraordinarily trying. Because of being, in many ways, caught blind-sided by the difficulties in my environment, my motivation has been tested, as has my hope.
As much as I don’t want to be sad, though, it is far more welcome when it’s about what’s going on around me rather than what’s going on inside of me. Though I can’t change my circumstances, I can combat depression in familiar ways and it does not have to rock my safety.
The first few days, I cried. And, as unpleasant as it was to feel and expose my overwhelming upset, letting out what I was experiencing gave me space to move through it. Letting the waves crash made way for a settling.
Still, the tears weren’t pleasant and, after having had time to feel sad, hurt, and confused, as well as the myriad of difficult emotions I was noticing, I realized I didn’t want to feel those ways anymore. Though I can’t help continuing to feel upset when small things remind me of the many ways I am having to go through a variety of experiences right now I do not enjoy in my transition out of residential, it is not the only thing I have to feel. It is so crucial that at times when I do not enjoy what’s happening, I do things I do enjoy.
Hopelessness is the fuel for my downfall and it is with every ounce of my soul that I do not want to ever feel the ways I once did. That means that I, in making a commitment to move forward, have to also make daily commitments to protect myself from the things that pull me back.
So, after the tears passed, I made a decision that the things out of my control I may not like, but there are so many things I can still do that I do like, and that I will do my best to incorporate those. It takes effort. It takes saying no, when my mind says stay in bed. It means thinking about what I enjoy in moments where joy is vacant. It means detaching from the darkness with the memory of the light. It means caring more about what could be than what is.
These past couple of days, sans (most) tears, I have begun to compile a list of and plan for the things I can do within these next few weeks to make myself feel connected to why I want to survive and thrive. Part of that is just writing this blog- just writing in general. Each night, I’ve kept a list of things I’m proud of about myself in that day. I went back to the good old Bucket List. I’ve explored new areas of Boston and found a yoga studio I immediately loved. I went kayaking and made sure every morning I got out of bed and out of my apartment and into the world. I went back to BC to remind myself of what I’ll soon be immersed in and what I’m recovering to. I made plans with friends and scheduled a trip to go home. I am keeping an eye on the good.
And that’s all I can do. But, it’s changed things significantly. Even when it feels like everything’s out of my hands- even when most things are- my happiness is mine.