Life is a crazy ride, and it’s been a while again since I blogged. I started to a number of times, but I either got busy with other things, or I just couldn’t decide exactly how I was going to jump back in the water when I lost track of the temperature. Now I have realized it has been more than seven months since I blogged. A lot has happened. I have been doing much better.
Back in December I was struggling to get health insurance and fighting mental health struggles every day. Thankfully, I am insured and on much needed medication. My mood started to stabilize. My depression and anxiety became more manageable, and I started working with a therapist that actually understands ADHD.
I had turned over a new leaf, in a lot of ways. I tamed many of my internal demons. I became somewhat more productive. I stopped being constantly overtaken by negative thoughts. I no longer had to dig deep in my soul for the will to live. These are all good things, of course.
But inner demons, like trees, don’t often die. They can only be tamed, and sometimes they need a refresher course. I am living in a house that belongs to my mother that she needs to sell. But more than that, I need to move on and release the ghosts once and for all, but moving on is terrifying. It is so easy to drift into escape loops. Create my own time warps where I binge a show, or play a game, or just watch kitten videos only to wonder at the end of the day where the day went. Part of this is ADHD, but there is more to it than that. I know there is.
I was doing better. I doubled my productivity. I paid some bills. I boosted my credit and my income was up for a while. I showed myself a blink of my possibility, and still I held back. I still hold back.
For a while I was driven enough not to impose a specific schedule. I am a freelance writer, mostly content for websites, and I centered work hours around deadlines rather than the clock. With my new medication I found enough motivation to work enough to feel a sense of improvement. I found “the zone.”
But even with obvious improvement, with medication that definitely helps, and therapy, and the absence of despair that I had been feeling for so long. I am frightened of failure and success in equal measure. Success is too often fleeting. What if it is only temporary? What if the bottom falls out again and there is nothing there to catch me? I don’t know if I can climb back up again. These internal scrapes and bruises do not heal overnight no matter how brave my face looks in the moment.
In less than two weeks I have an appointment to see an apartment in a town about an hour away from where I live. My credit still needs work. My income still needs work. It seems to be my best chance, however. If my best chance doesn’t work then what will?
So I hold my breath, because I don’t know what to do if my only option turns out to not be an option. If it doesn’t work will everyone hate me? Will I hate myself?
I am vested in this vision of myself in this midsized town with my dog in a place that as far as I am concerned has never been anyone else’s but mine. My son lives near there, enough to see him and parts of his circle from time to time. I seek out people who share my interests, or just pursue them on my own.
Maybe I will get a part time job to supplement my freelancing and just expand my world a bit beyond me and my dog. If I do well enough, I may get a kitten eventually. We used to live with cats, and my dog prefers them to other dogs.
In my vision, my house is cleanish. I am no more than a little behind on housework. I have an herb garden in my kitchen that actually grows. I have company sometimes. I go out. I come home. It is all okay. Normal in my own quirky way, with the freedom to design my life in any way I want.
I do not recall when life was not a struggle, and some times have been harder than others. If I finally get a breather, will it last?
Change is almost always scary. I should come up with a plan B in case this first one doesn’t work. If it comes down to it, I suppose I will. Staying stuck in the status quo is just as scary. There is always a way to move forward, even when the steps are so small you can barely feel them. Before you know it a big gust comes along and propels you to the next thing, ready or not.