Unconditional Hope

A few months of stability, I think, can be attributed to a year’s worth of major life overhauls.  This stability feels like it might actually stick, though, compared with other times when that didn’t feel so.  I have blogged before that I don’t believe in “recovery” from mental illness.  What I am feeling now, however, feels so real, so far removed from those times of misery, that I feel like it’s possible.  Recovery is possible.

I feel like the lows might not get so low, the highs not so high, and the cycles not so frequent.  I have hope for the future, hope that in the past has always been fleeting and conditional.  It doesn’t feel that way now.  Life feels real and it feels good to be me.  It doesn’t feel like I’m up and on my way higher, too high.  My head feels clearer, my thoughts less jumbled, less fog to muddle through.  

For the first time in my life, I feel like I have a life worth living.  I really think that “retiring” from the mental health field and going on SSDI has made all the difference.  I still work here and there for my parents’ businesses, and I have other things that keep me busy.  I still feel a lot of times like I could be busier, do more, and can get into a cycle of beating myself up about it.  For the most part, though, I am happy with how I spend my time.

There will be another transition period within the next few months, and I am hopeful that I can get through it without much struggle.  I have been limited in my activities since mid-December, when I broke my foot.  The general consensus is that it started out as a stress fracture mid-December, then compounded into an actual break mid-January.  I have been in a boot with crutches since then, and went to the doctor earlier this week for a follow-up.  He did another x-ray and it turns out that the bone had not started healing.  I was quite disappointed, but was told that this is common with this type of break (fifth metatarsal at the base) due to poor circulation in that area.  Of course, QoB already had this all knowed-up, but I was holding out hope that I’d be out of the boot and off crutches that day.  I am to return in three weeks, but the doctor says he does not think it will be healed by then.  So, I’m looking at a few months possibly of continued gimping around.

My worry is that, once I am able to get on my feet again, that I will not do so.  I desperately want to be to a point where I at least keep my own house clean, cook nightly, and possibly start walking once the boot is off.  I hope I can keep up that determination, because everything feels “so right” at this point, and I don’t want to lose that feeling.

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