One Year Later

One year ago, I was released from the psych unit of the hospital after spending a few days there, and simply stated, I was terrified. I didn't know how to go from the rock bottom of not eating or drinking for 5 days to making a life for myself again. I didn't know if this new medication I had been given, the 14th one I had tried in 6 years, would finally be "the one" that could help me. I didn't know if healing was a possibility for me anymore. My friend drove me to my house and gave me a big, warm, loving hug while advising me to take the day one minute at a time. I got out of her car and slowly walked up to my front door while feeling the heavy weight of the world pressing down on my weary shoulders. I opened the door to the silence of an empty house, and while dropping my bags on the floor and slipping off my shoes, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It was this "Welcome Home Mom" sign my family had made for me. No sooner had it caught my attention when I fell to the ground sobbing as the strength in my knees gave way to the emotion that overcame me in that tender moment. The love of my family instantly wrapped me in comfort, and I knew that somehow I was going to be okay.

One year later, the 14th medication didn't end up working out, but the 15th one did. I started seeing a counselor a few months ago and am continually working hard to do my part in the healing process. And now today, with the help of lots of eager youth and such generous, supportive friends, we finished a gift of 100 pairs of fuzzy socks with encouraging messages to donate to the psych unit of the hospital, the place I left one year ago feeling so completely and helplessly broken.

The truth is, I'm still healing and still learning how to pull myself out of surviving and into thriving. But I'm here, I'm trying, I'm progressing. My little family is supporting me through every step of this long process, and I feel blessed to able to give of myself, because I know what it feels like to wear those uncomfortable hospital socks with doubts of living a good life again. It's just one year later, but my future really does look bright.