A Different Response

Today happened, and sometimes, that's as much as I can say. I still feel empty a lot of the time, but that doesn't prevent me from doing what I need to do in order to better myself and my circumstances. I learned that today when I encountered a pretty frustrating situation at my intake appointment.

My appointment was scheduled for 1:00 PM, but I didn't speak with anyone until 2:00 PM. The PA in charge of my intake session was not exactly helpful, and by that, I mean that he explained nothing whatsoever of the services they offered, didn't ask questions about my situation, and seemed to stop listening the moment I mentioned I wasn't interested in pursuing medication options at this time. From my past experience, intake sessions generally last well over an hour, as the interviewers typically try to gauge your needs and match you with an appropriate provider or program. I wasn't even in that man's office ten minutes before he sent me down the hall to someone else to fill out a pile of forms. I was extremely uncomfortable, but halfway through signing things, I had had enough. I stopped the woman in charge of working on my file "update", which was actually not what was supposed to be happening at all since I had never been there before. I told her that I was feeling pretty uncomfortable with signing forms and being pushed through the process without being offered any explanations or options and without discussing a plan for care. She apologized, which is when she realized that I had been sent to the wrong place, and we eventually got together with the woman who was assigned to be my therapist. Because I had chosen this route, I was able to get an appointment much sooner. Had I not said anything, my first session would not have been until September. The plan is to meet that day and discuss further treatment options. In addition to all of this chaos, the delay caused me to be late to an interview I had scheduled for 2:45 PM. I simply called ahead, had my mom bring my suit, changed in the car, and went about the interview without a problem.

Two weeks ago, I never would have been able to do any of these things. My day would have been ruined, and I would have blindly followed the instructions of people I knew weren't doing their jobs appropriately. I wouldn't have been able to compose myself enough to tackle an interview. I wouldn't have even been able to summon up the courage to make the phone call saying I was going to be late. I'm nearly crying now realizing that things really are changing. I am myself again, and I am getting better at being that every day. Part of me is so happy about this. The other part is in so much pain because it realizes that, no matter how much progress I make in a short amount of time, I cannot simply return to the life I had before when I feel better. It will take time for the hurt and fear I have caused to be resolved. It will take time, and that is so hard to handle right now. I miss him all the time. I am happy with the person I am becoming. I am not depressed about my life. I feel confident and capable. But I can't shake that feeling of emptiness. Because I love him--because we really do love each other--this isn't the kind of thing that is going to stop hurting until we are finally both okay enough to reunite. Managing these feelings of pain and loneliness is the most difficult part of this by far. Everything else is coming back to me. Living with purpose is apparently a lot like riding a bike. You never really forget how to love yourself.

The only thing I can do is work on myself and allow time to heal these wounds. I know I am ready, but it will take time for others to believe in me as much as I do. It will take time for that trust to be rebuilt. And it will take time for him to get where he needs to be as well. And that's something I didn't think much about until we talked earlier tonight. I always thought he was doing alright, maybe because I was doing so poorly in comparison. But, in reality, we were both living co-dependently. We weren't functioning well as individuals. Hearing him admit that he was having some problems too helped me to realize that I am not to blame for everything that happens. I'm just so glad that he is going to be focusing on himself now too. And being able to be there for one another, even this far apart, is going to be so important.

It's getting to be that time of night where I feel the pain more intensely than at any other time. I've been trying to get in touch with some old friends from the area, but people are pretty busy these days, and others just haven't responded at all or will be partaking in activities that aren't in my best interests right now. I may be a little more on my own than I imagined, and that is hard too. But I have to stay focused even when loneliness tries to overwhelm me. I am here for a reason, and I won't let anything else get in the way anymore. This is so important to me. This is the most important time in my life and the most critical thing I have ever undertaken, for so many reasons. This is the start of something so much bigger and better, and once we are able to be confident in our own lives, the rest will fall into place. I'm pretty impatient, but I am learning to handle that too. I am learning to accept that this is the way that this must be done. I will keep believing, even when it feels impossible. I won't give up.