Mostly the voices, they stay quiet. A misprint of a thought, circling my head as I stand up to take a few steps through the long grass of time, into the future. They start as a chorus as I move, a low hum following.
“shoo.”
They mutter to themselves, stare impudently at me. I grin and walk along.
I see a future laid out before me, and it scares me. My voices conspire to give me a reason to flail-my anxieties about dealing with new people, with organized systems with rules. I see the mistakes I can make, and might.
The broken brain, she grins back.
It doesn’t have to be this way, not this time.
****
So I’m staring at what will likely be the genesis of a career, in nursing, as a midwife, in healing. And I like that thought. I like the thought, I like that I now have a future plan, that I have a dream. You had dreams, right? Had them I imagine, at 10, at 17, at 25. Dreams of travel, of career success, of finding love and devotion, starry nights and mimosa.
I dreamed of staying alive. I dreamed of outrunning my demons. I dreamed of functioning well in a world I could barely hang on to.
The prosaic nature of having a simple goal, of a career, of something fulfilling I wish to do, it quiets the voices which haunt me with my failures. I have come back from the absolute pit, the darkness of no dream, teetering on death, to hold in myself so simple of a beauty.
Hope.
I can now believe in a future. I now look ahead to when we’re old and crotchety and throwing peanuts at little kids who walk on our lawn and think
oh yes. Please.
and mean it.
I’ve lived for so long, empty bereft of such a simple gift. To be filled with it now, to hear doubt and fear cease, made mute by calm hope, is almost too much.
These voices, they’ll come around.
Yes, they will.
Hope is something I didn’t have until I got my mental illness under some semblance of control. This is a very touching post. I wish you well.
Yeah, I’ve never had any, not since I was about 8. It’s kinda nice actually.
smiling
Hey, speaking of which, did you find anything out about the program? EI and such?
I think I can finagle my way in (you need to not be working, but since my mental state in a call center is usually pretty precarious, that won’t be hard to get away from.)
The issue is that I just realized the practical nursing program is all full up for this fall.
indeed. i think the more we talk back at them… the more they tame. keep going!
extraordinary post, Thor…i hope that this hope stays with you and strengthens.
and yeh, the program…whassup?
a dream is a wonderful thing
Does the nursing program have a winter enrollment?
You know I wish you only luck and fulfillment with this. I think it’s awesome that you’ve found a path that calls to you so clearly.
I’m gonna see if they do. I hope so. As much as this job is easy, it’s making me dumb, mean and irritated.
Starting graduate school has been one of the biggest reasons that I’ve been able to get my depression under control. I feel useful, smart, and talented, even when I only vaguely understand the material being covered.
I wish you the best in pursuit of your dream. Even just having one can make a big difference.
I’m so glad you’re feeling better.
Even just the thoughts of getting going does make ALL the difference.
Finding a dream strong enough to propel you forward is such a gift. I’m proud of you!
awwwww.
This is wonderful news! I’m very happy for you!!
Hope is such a scary thing. When you’ve lived without it for so long, you don’t know what to do with it when it arrives. Hell, sometimes you don’t even recognize it.
I’m so happy for you that you’ve found hope, that you’ve found a dream you feel is worth pursuing. I’m starting school in the fall for social work – at 30, I’ve just discovered dreams and hope. It scares the hell out of me, I’m terrified of failing – but more than that? I’m terrified of not trying. And that is totally new.