Over and over again throughout this healing and recovery process I keep hearing how time is the best salve. Just give it time. I know it's true but it doesn't make it any less patronizing to hear. I want to scream, "Bitch, but what about right now?!" Just being honest. I met with my mental health care team this week and we all decided that for the sake of my overall health I needed to step away from everything for a while. So I'm actually taking a medical leave from work. I was worried at first for multiple reasons and I know I'd mentioned how I really would just quit my job to deal...but now I don't have to. Which in an of itself is a huge relief. Part of my anxiety around work was underperforming, and been seen as taking advantage of my supervisors patience with my healing process. It's irrational considering I work for and with trained counselors, therapists, and psychologists, but in case you're just now tuning in: I'm irrational right now. I feel at total piece with the decision. Or at least my capital 'S' self does. I won't give too much merit to the ego side that considers this quitting or weakness or a failure. I am taking a breath, in the grand scheme of my life. I'm pausing now to really work and process and heal a bit more so that when I do go back full throttle, it's not from a place of suppress, ignore, persist but from somewhere much healthier.
Similarly yet in a different vein, I met a guy. It is very very new and I don't want to say too much. Other than the theme of time is one threaded throughout my life right now, even with him. It is like when you first begin to practice mindful living and you chew your food slower so that in that moment you're actually tasting all the flavors. Or the swirl of wine around your mouth and against your tongue before you swallow. It's a savoring, an appreciation. Slowing down allows you to catch more of the detail and the nuance.
I'm excited by the idea that for a few weeks I don't have to wear the mask. That I can be how I feel without questions or glares or that antagonizing awful question "How are you doing?" I'm a hot fucking mess, how are you? I always want to answer that way and maybe now I will. Likely not, but maybe now I can have the time to consider a thoughtful honest answer without being flippant.
And on a final note, I have to say I'm so blessed by the people in my life who have been so patient with me. Jennie and Annie and Ted and Nick and Rox and Tara and Mari and Dom and Ne, my supervisor my dissertation committee my family especially my mom. I'm blessed beyond words for the time they've allowed me to fall apart and the support they've offered in various forms as I work to put myself back together. You know, the poem never explicitly said that Humpty Dumpty was an egg...maybe he, too, was just going through some shit.