Every. Freaking. Word.
Every. Freaking. Word.
The things I’ve had to miss (thus far) in order to return to treatment:
Attending my grandmother’s funeral.
Seeing my beautiful little sister’s transition into becoming a college gal!
One of my closest friend’s wedding (which was earlier today, 10/18).
….the list goes on into more of my personal life, school & job opportunities.
I know I’m where I need to be, but sometimes missing out on “the rest of life” really freaking sucks.
….and now we’re getting bumped up to partial…..
25 days before the average. ?!?!?!
"It works if you work it, so work it cuz you’re worth it!"
Updates to come, I promise!
This time around I am focusing nearly all the hours in the day on my recovery, as I should be.
And so far so good! :)
The second time around is much much easier, treatment-wise.
Violence is a significant problem in the United States. From infants to the elderly, it affects people in all stages of life. In 1992, CDC established the National Center for Injury Prevention and Control (NCIPC) as the lead federal organization for violence prevention. CDC is committed to stopping violence before it begins.
Being able to live a full life. Or just life in general. I mean…you only really have one shot at life. Why waste that chance being mopey and sad or self-harming? I want to overcome these addictions (or at least get them under control) so I don’t have anything in my way of living a good and fulfilling life.
There are so many things I want to do with my life, and I can’t do them with the way things are going right now.
Aaaand we’re going back into inpatient.
Yes, I have relapsed. Admitting a relapse isn’t fun. Admitting you have a problem isn’t fun. But…I did it anyhow, and per usual my family and friends are INCREDIBLY supportive. :)
This place is less of a hospital setting and more of a house of people suffering from similar afflictions.
There are live-in nurses, the house has a chef, counselors, therapists, a psychiatrist, a dietitian, etc.
It’s a small group and they only take up to 12 girls at a time.
There are regular therapy groups as well as gardening, yoga, meditation, beach time, walks, and much more.
The road ahead is going to be a rough one. Letting my walls down and being completely vulnerable has always been hard for me. But this time I realize that I didn’t get to the bottom of my pain last time; I only dealt with some of it.
There will be a lot of tears, anger, insecurity, and other emotions that I will have to deal with.
This is definitely a step up from living in a hospital, though, as this place is located in a residential setting.
My intake assessment is this Monday.
Wish me luck!
Every so often I’ll wake up to feel my mom checking me for a pulse. Literally making sure I’m not dead. That my heart hasn’t stopped again.
I think they (they = family & friends) are a little behind in my healing process….
Repeat after me: Depression is not a choice.
There is a difference between sadness and depression.
I still have days where I wonder “why am I still here? Why the hell am I fighting so hard (to stay alive) when I’m not even sure if it’s what I really want?”
Then I have days where everything is fine, and I feel unstoppable.
Then there are the days where it pours; it doesn’t even start out as a drizzle, or rain, it just fucking pours. And all I can do is stare up at the sky and think “Seriously? Again?”
I know life isn’t supposed to be easy.
It’s not really “supposed to be” anything for that matter.
But it sure is fucking hard.
Like trying to walk through thick mud, or snow without snowshoes.
It gets exhausting, and you feel like you’re going nowhere.
Take one wrong step, and you can be up to your waist in it.
Take another step and you’ll find that you have to have yourself up, but there’s a smaller layer of mud/snow/whatever analogy you’re going with.
Me? I just finished walking through inch-deep snow to fall into a frozen lake.
Freezing & drowning.
That’s what life feels like today.