Wednesday, July 4, 2012

A Walk in the Park

I'm approaching celebrating my one year anniversary of moving to Chicago and I almost didn't make it. With an enormous amount of homesickness, my anxiety and depression nearly bested me in a decision to return to Louisiana. I wanted to go home. I wanted so badly to be rescued again. I wanted to return to being numb. It's just easier to stop feeling sometimes. Let someone else tell you they're sorry for you. It becomes simpler to resort to addictive behaviors and say it's excusable because you survived a shitty childhood. Sometimes it feels the older I get, the less I understand my life up until New Year's Eve 1999. Seventeen years and the only way I had figured to quiet my brain after years of starvation was to run away and overdose. I let someone save me that night. I remember the pill bottles and the telephone in my bedroom. I recall my hand on the receiver, the cool feel of plastic on my cheek, and spitting out the words. I remember freaking out when I thought - "what if one day you could feel something again, what if you miss out on being happy, what if you can accomplish something bigger than yourself?" I had been rescued before on occassion when my weight would get too low. I had developed a right efficient system of recovery into relapse that allowed me room for hope, and space for denial. But I always knew someone else would swoop in and I could cease trying too hard for awhile. I relished being the sick little girl, the malfunctioning smart girl, the quiet affectless girl. Sometimes I want to be her again. Because it is easier to be her. When I felt myself want to go home, I felt myself go back to that place of emotional dismissal. But I will not choose the easier route this time. It's about discovering strength. Knowing I can live my life without a safety net, knowing I can feel again and those feelings sometimes include less than desirable days. I have much to be thankful for, even more to be humbled by, and a healthier frame to carry me through. Today I walked through Palmer Park and cried. Parks are good for walking aimlessly and remembering there is more life than just your own. Today was just a bad day. But it doesn't need to be fixed by anyone other than myself. I have bigger plans for tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that...


  1. Sorrow and happiness exist in the same moment and you can't be a true person without experencing both of them. I feel you about the homesickness it resides in us all, but the question you have to ask is was that home , or was that comfortable. Change is good for the soul , but hard for the mind. Keep walking your path and try to live in the moment non judgementally as you can. If it gets rough and you want a someone to listen , just listen not fix or offer bullshit fortune cookie sentences, this cowboy knows how to be quiet and my shoulder aren't to narrow to cry upon.

    Just a Texan

  2. It's hard being away from family or close friends...Everyone needs a support network. I hope you have found that among coworkers, theater friends, and maybe even apartment neighbors. Sometimes it is good to is hard to be strong all the time. We're all rooting for you! But remember, you have nothing to prove...even if you do end up leaving Chicago...that does not mean you have failed.