My next chapter is about to begin

I’m scared… and frustrated...and sad… and so many other feelings and emotions all rolled together.  I know the next chapter will probably be a good or even great one for me, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  

Since I last posted… I went for my assessment at a place that I can only describe as what my first impression was as a “mental health camp.”  The grounds and facilities were welcoming and inviting and will hopefully provide the perfect setting to grow and heal and recovery and learn and all the other adjectives I have heard from all of the people I’ve been listening to.

I was impressed with the place and ready to sign on the dotted line when the admissions person informed me that he would have to consult with his colleagues in the admissions department to decide if I was the right fit for their program.  Whoa… this felt more intimidating and important than applying to colleges or rushing a sorority (that’s a whole other story that I won’t go into now or probably ever).  I left with the racing thoughts of “did I say the right things?” “was I too healthy or too mentally unhealthy for them?” “should I have worn something other than yoga pants?” and found myself singing in my car one of my favorite songs from A Chorus Line “I hope I get it… I hope I get it…” and changed some of the words to fit my needs.  

I called Dan immediately to get him to apply for financial aid.  This really felt like I was applying early admission for the most important school of my life.  I also knew that if I got in, I might have to be on a waiting list for several weeks.

I described my reaction to this place to all who asked as feeling as Annie must have felt when she left the orphanage and saw Daddy Warbuck’s mansion.  And my black and white thinking had me worried that I’d be sent back to the orphanage where I had spent a month in April/May.  There had been no Miss Hannigan, but the institutional feeling and random drug checks and waiting room/lecture hall atmosphere had been ruined for me since seeing this new place.  

The next 48 hours I checked my phone and email constantly, waiting for either my acceptance or rejection… I also distracted myself with the homework given to me by both Dr. K and Dr. S which was to keep myself busy and try to have fun and relax. I did enjoy time spent with friends and visiting a museum, but I had a hard time getting my mind to wander away from my goal.  

Thursday afternoon, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, I e-mailed and after a small mishap found out that I had indeed been accepted to their program and would only have to wait 6 days to start.  

I was excited and exhausted and apprehensive. And I still am all of those and more. I am hoping that I am able to use this program to actually do some healing. I voiced some of the following concerns at my session this afternoon with Dr. K (who I am nervous I won’t be seeing while I am doing this program and who I have come to trust implicitly)

But here is what is cycling through my head… and rationally I know I have to quiet them, but for those of you who don’t know what goes on in my head (which is all of you) here is a quick sample: What if I fail? What if this doesn’t work? Then what? What if I am too far gone to be “fixed”?  Can I really change 30+ years of thinking in a few months? I have social anxiety… do I really have to meet a whole bunch of new people? Talk to new therapists? A new psychiatrist?  What will people think of me and my disease? Will this be like my first day at school? Who will I sit with at lunch? Will I make friends? While I am there what is going to be going on in my classroom? Will my students/colleagues forget about me while I am gone? What if they love the substitute more than me and don’t want me back? What if I can no longer function as both a teacher and a person suffering from depression? Then what? Can you fail out of a program like this even if you are trying your hardest? I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea?!?!?!?

Why did I share the above thoughts that cycle through my head?  Because I think people should begin to understand the nuances and depths of the illness I and so many others live with every day.  I hope to soon be “in remission” and hope the day comes soon when I don’t care what others think.  Unfortunately that day is not today.

36 hours and counting, now the only question is "What should I wear for my first day?"  (Don’t expect a photo of me standing on the driveway with a sign on Wednesday)