Fanatic Memories

20131031-214755.jpgIt’s as if my shoes don’t fit right. I wear a size 7.5, have for a very long time. But lately, as I step out into the bright big world, I feel out of step. I feel far away, removed. I can see and smell my surroundings. I am aware I am at work, in my cubicle, typing on my computer but there is no connection. I can feel my feet on the ground but I do not know where I am going. I know I have a voice but I am not sure what to say. I guess you could say I feel lost.
adelie-penguin-south-shetland-islands-antarctic-peninsulaYet. As a child I would get on my bike, feel the pedals being guided by my feet and I never really knew where I was going. Truth is I didn’t need to know then. Why do I have such drive to know now? Seems like there is always a destination. I remember I used to love to swing. Wind in my hair. I would teeter back in the swing testing my courage and my grip. I would pump harder and higher. I would lean back and attempt to force my body into a straight line supported by the swing. I felt free. Not tethered to anything or anyone. Gliding through the air of my own free will. I don’t remember the last time I felt this peaceful.
20131022-213942.jpgThough my depression has seemingly lifted and I am somewhat functional again, I feel far from whole. Sitting in my depression in sobriety AA meeting last week a gentlemen with decades of sobriety asked if he would ever feel better. It got me thinking that being/feeling better is relative. I am sooo much better than I was 3 weeks ago when I literally cried for 5 days straight. I am better than I was at 4pm today when I had a panic attack at work and had to hide in a bathroom stall. But, I’m not where I want to be in my recovery, so I can’t see that I am getting better. But, I am. Sometimes quickly, sometimes slowly.
20140227-141914.jpgI have returned to work. This is my second week. I am supposed to only work 4 hrs per day per doctors orders but I am having a hard time adhering to that. I want to feel productive. I want to feel part of. I want to move forward. This last depression was pretty debilitating. I mean really, they all are. My friend had to remind me I was in fact moving forward by being at work for 4 hrs. I was too busy believing I was weak for not being able to handle a full day. That damn destination gets me each time.
Maybe it’s time to buy a new pair of shoes and find a swing. I long to feel free. I long to find some peace. Maybe I need to recreate old times where I never cherished such gifts, just experienced them in the moment.



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