48 Hours. That’s how long before I’ll be on my way to Toronto, getting on a plane, and heading for recovery.

There I go, watching the clock again.

I have so much to do before I go. The idea of being away for a month is intimidating. I can’t say I’m going to resist being forced to unplug when I get there. It’s been over a decade since I’ve spent a day actually living instead of working, scrolling, typing, swiping – and, of course, drinking. 

“The whole world is moving and I’m standing still”

I don’t even know if I’ll remember how to take care of myself. Not to be confused with being focused on myself. Self interested and self indulgent. But, for a change, self care.

I’m looking forward to that moment when I realize that life is going on just perfectly well without me in it back home.

That the world will keep spinning madly on whether I am lost or whether I am found.

“I just got lost and slept right through the dawn”
– The Weepies

I’ve been having a tough time turning my brain off this week. More so than usual. When I committed to going to recovery, I literally cried for 2 days straight.

Like I just found out my best friend was dying. 

And over the last few days, I’ve come to realize it’s quite the opposite.

It’s as though they found a cure for my dying friend.
That they’re going to be okay, after all.

The only reason I should be crying is with gratitude for this opportunity.

The opportunity to let it all go.

Finally.

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27 comments

  1. Your best friend is dying. Almost dead already in fact. Never to be your friend again, dead. The upside is you get a new best friend almost immediately and you don’t have to give up everything that is good in your life to keep the new friend. In fact, quite the opposite. Detox well!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thank you so much 😀 I really hope so. I know they encourage journalling every day. So I’m going to ask that I can post here instead. Because of the nature of my work, I still *have* to work somewhat while there, the entire month – so had to negotiate that I didn’t have to turn in all electronics at 8:30pm so I’d have a chance to work during my private time. Not sure if they’ll come and confiscate it at 10pm (lights out) or not – but we don’t get them back until after breakfast. So, we’ll see. I’ll find a way LOL.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Today I have friends in family in town to celebrate the life of my husband. The greatest honor I have on this day is reading your post with this courage you are showing. Live for those like Adam whose body couldn’t conquer this disease. His spirit did but it wasn’t enough. Live on.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A month is nothing. And everything.
    Just take care of yourself. Anything happening outside the room you are in is really irrelevant.

    Do what you need to start your recovery. Grieve. It’s completely normal to be sad when we make huge changes…even if the change is beneficial.

    You will be ok. Believe that.

    Liked by 1 person

      1. I agree
        My husband went to rehab and he waited 6 weeks to go.
        It was a brutal 6 weeks.
        He said it was the hardest thing he ever did….but also the bravest.

        You are doing a hugely brave thing. Just keep repeating that to yourself.

        Like

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