One day, not long ago, it hit me that I had lived in this house for almost a year and my life was "on hold". I found myself in a "holding" pattern that I am sure is not unique to me, but to many people in recovery. It's that state when you live your life waiting for the other shoe to drop...
and it's mentally exhausting.
The last couple of years have been challenging, to say the least. It seemed like I had the worst case of growing pains in history, but somehow I managed to hang on and come out on the other side. I can only explain it as a a white water rapids kind of ride... you hang on while the water beats the crap out of your vessel, you might even fall out, but you climb back in and ride it to the end where the pool is usually calm and you just stay in the raft pondering, in amazement,... did that all really happen? Am I OK? My ride was so long and hard that its taken me a year to realize it's time to get out of the raft. But how scary is that? Will my legs hold me or will my knees buckle?
I have a long tale to tell but I will have to share it a little bit at a time. For now I just wanted to say Thank You to those who have helped me along the way. For those who believed that I would eventually get out of the raft and step on dry land. You know who you are... thanks for believing in me.
Now it's time to stop planning and start living in this "no longer new" house.