Friday, 18 October 2013

Cautiously Optimistic

I recently saw my psychiatrist.  

For the first time, I told her
     I
         was
                 feeling
                        better.
It was true.  
I couldn't tell her why or how or what happened.  It just seemed like I had a good day. And then another. Then another.  I told her like it was a secret.  I didn't want to jinx it. She was the first person I had told. 
 
I can still catch glimpses of the darkness if I turn fast enough. 
 
But it has no hold on me.  It moves over and through me.
 
I guess a few weeks ago, I had a good day.  I think it started with my crown.  I had heard horror stories about crowns---but I felt ok about going.  And it turned out ok.  So much so, that I agreed to see a specialist about some tricky root canals I had been putting off, since I was TEN.  We talked, he was concerned I may loose a tooth.  One at the front.  But I booked the appointment anyway.  I felt ok.  I felt like this was the time to look after me.  And that I would be ok.
 
In between the crown and the root canal appointment were other good days.  I started a class at the gym that includes yoga, tai chi and Pilates.  It ends with quiet meditation.  I love it.  I went back to a popular dance type exercise class. The lite version. I love it. My body explodes with joy through movement.
 
I worked on my goals for the program--to read, to clarify finances, to connect.  Some of it was scary and needs more work, but the fear of the unknown in paralyzing.  Things continue to get more clear.  I like to know my options. I like to have a plan. Fear and shame fade in the presence of doing something.
 
I learned a tricky knitting pattern.  I ripped it out several times because I wasn't getting it.  Each time though, I learned something new. It's not perfect, but I feel confident I can learn anything with time.
 
My psychiatrist was pleased to hear all these things.  She nodding knowingly. This, she said, was something psychiatrists all wait for.  Patients describe it as a fog lifting, taking off dark glasses, seeing clearly.  No one knows exactly why or how but when this happens, it is time to move forward.  In this new light, my goal is to reflect on what brought me here and come up with a plan for how to prevent it from happening again.  She said she would see me in 6 weeks.
 
However much I wish she would tell me what to do, I know it has to come from me. 
 
And so I will reflect and read and continue to enjoy the good feelings.  Knowing that bad moments are just that, moments.  They are uncomfortable.  They will pass.  I will still be here.  And in their wake, is the opportunity for more moments of joy and wonder and love and peace.
 
I am cautiously optimistic ... 

 

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