If every journey has a beginning, then six years ago today this particular journey started.
Sometimes we have to stand as far back as we can from something to be able to see it all. maybe six years is long enough to do that. I don’t think too much about that day. the day everything changed for me. Enough time has passed for me to be able to talk about it without reliving it or I would not talk about it at all. Nobody needs that. Neither do I go into much detail about the day-to-day living of the years that followed, the minutes and hours that weren’t directed at finding a cure, the drawn out time I spent just existing. there’s not a lot of point in going there. It is all pain. All loss. All unwanted.
There’s an element of wonder about my life now. Every moment is remarkable. Totally memorable. The small almost imperceptible things are filled with Joy. Every conversation I have is special-every interaction with another. Nothing is taken for granted. Not ever. And if I was ever in doubt about how dramatically things have changed for me then I only need go back to six years and one day ago. The last real normal day I ever had. A day I don’t remember at all. Not a bit of it. I couldn’t tell you how I spent if you paid me.
If I could go back to that day, six years and one day ago- before events took a turn I could never have anticipated, what would I tell myself? Go for a really long walk? Go sit with your friends and have a conversation for hours? Go dress yourself in something beautiful? Go look in the mirror and love what you see? Go eat something amazing because its going to be years before you are hungry again? Go on an adventure and see something awe-inspiring, because your world is about to get very, very small indeed? Go write every thought in your head down because the person you are right now is about to disappear and you will never see her again?
I can’t do anything about those lost years. They are gone. I won’t ever get them back. But that doesn’t mean anyone else has to spend years searching for their own recovery. That’s why I set this place up. Why should it take years? There are so many ways to get well, and it’s entirely doable. Not just well enough to simply exist. I’m not having that. It’s not good enough. I always believed I could get well again. I just wish it hadn’t taken so bloody long to go from ill, to well,to existing, to really living.
I don’t think it should take years at all. I think a full physical and mental recovery can be achieved so quickly now. It took me years to sift through what worked and what didn’t and then to come up with some stuff of my own. I honestly think we have enough information now to choose from so many of the physical treatments that work-and then very swiftly build up mental resilience to face the world again. Properly. Without fear. Without isolation.
So yes occasionally when those thoughts that are all pain and all grief and all loss come and bite me on the ass, when I am faced with thoughts of where those lost years might have taken me had I not been forced down this road, the places I may have gone, the lives I may have led. The relationships I could have built. I think of the people who are getting so well so fast now, who bounce back so quickly they don’t have those missing years. I think of the jobs they have taken, the people they said yes to because they were ready to share their life, the friends they have made and the places they have seen. And it helps. It helps a lot.
That and of course the fact that if all of this had never happened I’d be sitting here with just another six years and one day that I took every minute of for granted. That I never stopped to gaze at the wonder of. That I just walked right through-and that I can’t quite remember..,