I have always been some thing- a tennis player, runner, social worker, wife, friend. But now I want to be someone. Simply put I would really like to know who I am, at my core. Okay, I’d even settle for just being able to answer the damn question: who is the fanatic? On a basic level. Right now, I feel confused. I also no longer want to be bound by an emotion. At this very moment, I am anxious. But really, aren’t I so much more than that?!
I easily get discouraged by the thought of being 39 years old and feeling like I don’t have a true identity. I recently said to my dear friend it’s not easy roaming around out here looking for myself. Early on in my crisis, I was frantically running up a hill to get closer to my higher power. During those runs I would hear my husband calling my name.
You know in that tone like someone is lost in the mountains and it’s about to get dark. I heard it several days in a row. It took me a little while to figure this out since he was often sitting at his office 5 plus miles away. He was calling me home, calling for the fanatic he loved and married. Not only was I lost, but he was missing me.
Meanwhile I was stripped of my finer qualities and was playing hide and seek with my demon involuntarily. I started to feel raw, so vulnerable, so alone in my battle with depression. What little sense of self I had found through recovery and the 12 steps fell down the rabbit hole.
An alternative healing therapist told me I was literally going thru the dark night of the soul. A spiritual rebirthing was taking place. You would think this process would be full of doves, white roses and some kind of zen like vibe. Oh no! Not for me. This was gut wrenching “I am not going to make it off the mountain,” agony.
You know I was just reminded at the outset of my crisis, sitting at a vista point contemplating taking my life, sitting in my car felt safe. The open space of the world felt too big for me. I really believed it would gobble me up.
Well, it didn’t. I guess I am on the search for the new fanatic that emerged from such darkness and despair. What I have to remember is this journey is by no means ending. A new path may lay before me. I can look back and see how far I’ve come. 2 months ago today I was in a locked psychiatric unit. 2 days from today I am going back to work.
123 Why should I ask for either forgiveness or permission?