We’re constantly told to reach the summit, you know climb until you can’t anymore. But, what if you do reach the summit? How do you come down? Some would like to stay there. But, I am a little light-headed now and would like to get back to the ground where there’s more space I can call my own. I always wanted to reach the summit and then come down.
Today, the doctor reduced the dosage of one medication. She even detailed a plan on how to reduce each medication one by one. I reached the summit of my disorders and it’s time to start the climb down. The harsh cold of the summit is not meant to be inhabited for more than a few moments. I didn’t think that the meds would go away like this. I have to part with my crutches now.
It’s not done yet, we have to see how I do without it. It’s going to be really slow. Nonetheless, this journey was never begun without a destination. There was a destination, but nobody knew when we’d make it there or what the route was. Somehow after searching, going in circles, facing every type of weather we got here, now we see the track.
This huge change in my life was met with my parents’ anxiety, sometimes I feel like I am also carrying the weight of my parents’ anxiety with me through all of this. They bombarded me with everything I had to do to compensate for the lack of medication. So as usual, I didn’t get to process the change. This is one cycle that never stops.
Today was a taxing day, where I just wasn’t feeling up to it. Where I spent most of the time trying not to let my parents get to me. They always find a way though. They have mastered the art of breaking my defences. But, I did get to spend some time inside my head. I was able to laud myself for getting here. These small achievements for me are all I must focus on.
I feel nervous, I feel like now bad days are not allowed for me. My bad days are counted, they invite medical attention. I am learning how to make sure my bad days don’t become so bad. But before I start the journey down I took the view in. The vast world is spread before me. From where we stand on the ground we see nothing before us, obstructing our view of what’s beyond us. Here on the summit, it’s comforting to see everything and knowing it’s actually all there.
I cried a lot today but not over this. I was told a hundred ways to get down, but everyone forgot to mention that I am doing this on my own, just like the climb till here. It’s emotional for me and I am not going to play this down. Even if it’s a mere fifty milligrams that’s been reduced. For me these fifty milligrams required tons of strength to get rid off.
I am going to have to work harder from here on and I know I am pretty high up. This time I am a little more prepared. I am wondering what’s in store but I also know not all of it will be pretty. I just want to keep going and not stop along the way.
Perhaps this means I must learn to breathe better, get out more, exercise more, it will take a lot. It isn’t that straightforward though, I am fighting myself here. I am expecting the disastrous scrapes and bruises. I am going to take it minute by minute. Maybe I’ll get to a point where this journey will be over. I just never want to be back up here ever again. This is not a mountain I want to climb again.
The truth is, I wasn’t expecting this. There was always that shadow of disbelief that I would never even get till here. Yet, somehow it did, my feet carried me here without expecting anything from this except that we’d get here at some point. This might be what they call blind faith. I can’t be sure. Even now I hesitate to say ‘faith’ because it just doesn’t sound like a word that would make it to my dictionary. I say it inspite of myself, forced by my circumstances.
Everything wasn’t taken care of by faith though, it was months of work on the thing I fear the most, myself. Now the only voice in my head is mine, the only fears are the ones that are real, and my smiles aren’t so rare. But I can’t say if it’ll get better or worse. That’s where I cross my fingers and follow time. I think if after this climb I can’t get down, it’ll be embarrassing more than anything. I do have a back-up plan, if all else fails, I’ll just roll down, it might be bumpy but there’s no way I am staying up here longer than I absolutely have to.