Peace in the Process
Despite the fear of moving forward
Let me start with honesty. Depression. It sucks and it's been creeping back over me and despite how much I've tried to ignore it, I can't. I've been lax with writing here lately because not only have I not had motivation, I've had no energy. I had no encouraging things to say. The last post about self care took a lot but thankfully, the words came together. And now I'm here, trying to mentally prepare (read: mentally avoid) for what is likely to be at least a six month stay in another treatment facility. What am I thinking? I have begun the daunting task of seriously looking for an ed center and it seems that I will be admitted into a place called Mercy Multiplied very soon-- I have a phone intake session tomorrow morning so yeah. Needless to say, I'm very
With Montecatini, the place out here, I could plan my recovery. I had it all figured out; I'd go in for a couple of months and come out and move on with my life. Yay plans! But apparently, the Lord has other plans... And honestly, I can't think that I can control the process of recovery. That's not to say that I shouldn't take control of my recovery and choose right choices, but I can't expect it to be neat and tidy and trimmed like I want. I know I need extensive and intensive work but I wanted to be in charge of how that came about. Because that way, I'd know the process and could avoid being caught off guard. I know I would have to leave Monty sooner than six months due to my job and insurance. And I could easily tell my job I'd be back within a couple of months. But Mercy throws everything off because I don't know for sure how long I'll be gone. Six months? Seven? Eight? Even now I'm planning to stay the bare minimum and "get back to my life" as it were-- because I'm having so much fun in my life right now... sarcasm. But what about my job? What about my housemates? What about... everything?
Honestly, it's not even the whole "leaving my job and not having income" thing that bothers me. I've learned that a place of business will go on even if one of its workers doesn't show up one day. I don't really get anxious about doing what's right for my health anymore, even if that means taking off work. I have learned to put myself first in that regard and not feel the need to be Superwoman/Perfect Girl-- I'm trade marking Perfect Girl, btw. What bothers me about my job and leaving is that I have no concrete answers for them. Or maybe for me. I don't know when or if I'll be returning and I do enjoy what I do. It's just the fact that nothing is concrete. And I like stability.
I like planning. I like to know ahead of time so I can prepare. Prepared answers. Prepared questions. Prepared feelings. Prepared actions and responses. Reminds me of a computer. Or robot. But if I don't know what's expected of me or what to expect, I can't perform. I'm left with having to... feel and just be. Yuck.
But I also know that God knows best and has indeed and without any doubt taken care of my every. single. need along this Cali journey of mine. I know that He is ordering my steps and that He knows what He's doing. And I'm okay with not knowing what He's doing all the time... but what am I doing?! What am I about to get myself into? This place is going to force me to go deep into things. Into deep, dark, sharp, pointy things (aka, feelings) that I've avoided and starved and purged away for years. Things I've repressed and to which I've gone numb. But I'm numb now. I can't taste things or see things or feel things the way I want to and I'm in a state where that just doesn't cut it. I know I need to get this help but the unknown of what this help entails is what shakes me.
Do I have peace in this process? In the sense that I know I'm doing what needs to be done. Am I still fearful of moving forward? Hell. Yes.
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