As well as grieving the past, during recovery I am continuously grieving the present (and beating myself up about it - I try not to but often fail).
Mostly I’m sad because I don’t like certain traits of who I am anymore - increased introversion, worry, overthinking and being inside my head; not that I’ve ever been spontaneous but plans can actually send me into a panic. The odd dinner with a friend gets cancelled or I feel in a funk and fearful of situations that are out of my control. It is nothing on them - in fact I envy my friends, living, choosing to be seen, not invisible; unfortunately recovery often means choosing my head, an imaginary narrative, over someone who I care so deeply about. Accounting for how I feel now and prioritising what feels best for me in this moment, the anxiety and overthinking takes over. (My choice, but also out of my control, a literal mindfuck). It makes it hard to rationalise the decision I will enjoy the most, and morally feel better about, over the decision my body is telling me to do. More specifically, telling me how it should look before I can commit and show up to plans. Rather selfish towards the others involved.
So do I still miss out on ongoing plans and often feel jealous of others? Yes. Am I still motivated to get to that place of recovery? Absolutely. Discomfort is part of the journey, to grow and learn. I say this through gritted teeth; in these moments of pain and unhappiness, it’s not a want - I need to keep going to find that promised pot of gold (I swear if it’s empty…). Keep my eyes on the prize, stay mindful and one cancelled dinner over countless in the future is a small sacrifice.
They say that life is short and we have to live it to the full (which just makes me feel even more guilty and pathetic for cancelling), but mental health is sometimes more powerful. Going outside our comfort zone is scary and takes courage, for anyone, and what's worse is the only way out is through...
Comments