I was able to go to Shanghai Disneyland which was wonderful.
Knowing limits is good. I need to remember that I do not have the superpower of speed to get ready for the day in five minutes. Nor can anyone read minds. We cannot fly, breathe under water, live without food or water, etc. Limits can be helpful.
However, they can also be a hinder. So many times, I have let limits on myself – whether inflicted by me or others – that have hurt me. There were things that I was and wasn’t, limits set and dreams shattered.
This past year has shown me that I am more than my limitations. I need to stop living bound to my past or my struggles.
After arriving back in the USA a few days ago, I’ve been busy cleaning out all of my old boxes. Although I just moved back from China, my goal is to move abroad again for my Master’s Degree soon. Thus, all of the clutter in my old room and closet needed to leave.
As I pulled out old boxes and rummaged through dusty drawers, glimpses of the past kept appearing.
My fingers were stained pink and blue from oil pastel paintings made in residential treatment for my eating disorder. Babies surrounded by darkness, blood-red monsters devouring me, trees half blossoming and half diseased – images of despair and hope mixed with every color.
Imagine meeting an old group of friends or classmates. One person constantly belittled and even bullied others while growing up. Now, she listens well and even apologized for past actions. Another person, on the other hand, was shy and insecure. He still struggles to speak and usually complains about himself when he does speak.
Situations like this happen to me all of the time although not always in the same day. I meet people from the past who have changed tremendously while others are nearly identical. The questions arise, “Do people change? Can someone move on from the past? Are some people able to forget who they were?”
Living in recovery (or at least attempting to) is strange. At times, the current sweeps you under and pins you under the water until you feel your lungs about to burst. Other times, the water seems like a calm pool, perhaps even enjoyably cool and refreshing.
Then there are days, weeks, months, years when you are just treading the water. You aren’t about to drown, but your feet certainly do not touch the ground to stabilize you. Each recovery-based choice takes considerable effort and seems like a waste most of the time. However, making those healthy choices is not impossible.
What is depression? How does it feel? Why does it make people so miserable?
There are many different answers given to those questions. Everyone with depression experiences it a bit different. Some might say that it is like a whirlpool pulling them under while others attest to it being locked away in a pitch-dark cell. For some, the loneliness is the hardest part while others cringe from the self-loathing.
She sure felt worthless at times, but Cinderella did not give up hope.
Being away from family, the company I want to work for, and the normalcy of Minnesota has been hard. Throw in getting a job that was not what I expected when I applied and waiting to hear back from other companies, and you will find me feeling pretty worthless.
On so many levels, I feel frustrated and broken. This stage of life is just so hard even without mental illness making it more difficult.