In a way, a strange almost surreal way things are looking up. After being doused in the cold water of the reality check I received, I would say I recovered. Once I put aside the anger, I was able to recognise that I was all over the place. I had been letting my mind getting the best of me. Luckily I have people to show me the mirror as it really is from time to time.
I am just happy soon this week shall be at an end. Not because anything exciting is set to happen, but just so that I can get a move on. This week has been a test if anything, asking restraint from my anxiety. The panic attacks were not the highlight, but my resolve to fight it was new even for me. I mean this week I realised something new about myself, I know how to stop my panic attacks. It requires work, and I might have another one in the future, but whenever that is I can rely on myself now.
At first, I wasn’t sure, once I started thinking about it, it made sense. The doctor was kind enough to place the facts rather sharply in front of me, and I think a switch flipped on in my head. I wouldn’t say I was completely ok with being put on the spot, but once I went back home, sat on my bed and contemplated it, I was able to accept it. In many ways I knew it was true.
I think I had reached a plateau in my recovery. I was not going up or down and I thought I could relax and take the training wheels off. For a couple of weeks it was liberating but at the first major sign of stress, my mind collapsed under the weight, just like that. Luckily for me, it was a slip and not a grand crown-breaking fall. So yes much to my doctor’s and my disappointment, things looked awry.
Now I realise that if I am healing I can’t be lax about it. It’s an everyday process, every time I reach a plateau I have to push harder. Slipping is fine but it’s constant work. I took it easy thinking I have more important things to worry about. It was silly of me, considering everything is linked to my mind whatever I do. All my priorities are linked to the basic functioning of my brain.
I suppose there is some comfort knowing it wasn’t all gone or lost. But that keeps me on guard now. I am tired I won’t lie, I am tired of the baby steps. Sometimes I feel over-exposed. It’s different when an expert is analysing an organ other people don’t know the first thing about, and it’s different when it is your thoughts, your fears, questions, feelings and memories that are laid out on the examination table. Everybody has a second opinion on these things.
Sometimes I wish I could take whatever I put out there for my friends and family to see back. On some days I don’t like my brain and heart in someone else’s hands to judge. I trust my doctor and therapist because that’s their job but what about everybody else? I guess it’s not something that can be helped.
This makes me indecisive, but I am still looking up. I don’t want to look down and see how high up I am. I want to keep looking up and walking upwards. I know from the milestones how far I’ve come. I don’t want my eyes to deceive me into thinking I can’t go any further up because this is too high up from the ground. It’s not easy and these are my hurdles.
I sincerely hope the plans I have work because it would ease the load of my existence. As you go up it gets trickier. There isn’t much else to do is there? But it’s not all hard. It’s got its good moments too. There are periods of joy and I am grateful for those. Looking up there’s a lot I’m seeing, and not all of it is out of my reach.
Obviously, I need to get there and I’ll have to do it on my own, I am just more positive about it. Nothing about any of this is less daunting, let me tell you that. All I am saying is that I’m done being the one who scares myself. I’ll let the others do that from now on because they already do a much better job of it anyway.