As I approach almost 30 years of life and I take inventory of where I have been and where I am, I realize, I am no where I thought I’d be.
I never thought at 29 I would be waking up at 7:30am to break-up texts because I wasn’t ready to be more physically affection. And they were feeling unwanted.
I never thought that at 29 I would be thrust into the midst of all my trauma shit, in the form of flashbacks and nightmares. I never thought that Pandora’s Box would choose now to open.
I never thought I would be in group therapy, individual therapy, and seeing a psychiatrist. I never thought I would last this long trying and discarding med after med.
I never thought I would still be battling self-injury.
I never thought I would have already been married and divorced.
I never thought I would have been almost a mother, especially not more than once.
I never would have thought I would have had and lost as many friends as I have.
I never thought I would have this many secrets from the people in my real life.
I never thought I would still be alive, to be honest. But here I am, alive and getting my primary source of cuddles from felines.
It isn’t all bad though.
I also never thought I would be back in graduate school for something I absolutely love.
I never thought I would have found a worship group that I kind of dig (even if I am too busy to go lately).
I never thought I would be in yoga teacher training.
I never thought I would have a job that merges the two things I am currently most in love with: yoga and counseling.
I never thought I would be watching as my social circle expands.
I never thought I would be looking at any of the many unknowns and possibilities that currently face me, but here I am.
This is what I am learning about life and especially living with multiple mental health issues: life doesn’t go as expected. The journey is never going to lol the way we want or hope or plan. But we keep getting up, we keep walking, we keep paving new paths anyway. Because why else are we here?