In January of 2014, I thought I was set out to have a very different year than the one I had. I prayed to my Higher Power for the willingness and ability to be happy while not in a relationship, to take care of myself, and to stay committed to my recovery. I received all of those things, but in very different packages than I expected.
I experienced two bouts of depression (one of which I am still recovering from), which I thought were cruel tricks, but were actually wonderful opportunities to fight for myself and my sanity. I remember that little by little, and also leap by leap, life happens to me. I cannot control what happens, but I can control my part in it, and if I lose control for a moment, I can move from there. Each day to the best of my ability, I can show up. And if my best today is not as good as it was yesterday, that’s okay. Yesterday’s not to do with today.
I took myself on dates and read lots of self-compassion books. I committed to writing down one happy thing each day and putting it in a jar. Now I have a jar full of happy things that happened during 2014. There were a lot of happy things, even on the days when I thought the only good thing was that I stayed clean. A day that I stay clean is a wonderful day. I fell in love with myself like I never thought possible in 2014, and for that I am so grateful. I write myself cheesy love notes all the time. I am a soul and I am worthy of love. No matter what.
On the days when I felt like I had nothing, I had my recovery and my recovery community. I dove into that community deeply this year, because I know I am safest when I am in the middle of the lifeboat. I re-started working the steps and I have experienced more spiritual growth in the last year than in the previous twenty-two.
I am currently spending my last night in the apartment I have lived in for two years. This apartment has a little bit of my soul in it. I grew up just a little bit while I lived here. So many memories have been absorbed into the walls, and into my heart. This is my last night in the apartment, because tomorrow I get to start a new chapter of my life with the man I love.
I fell in love this year. I prayed to my Higher Power for the right person, at the right time. I was ready to wait, and I didn’t have to wait long. He was blonde and he was a newcomer and it was his first day out of a treatment facility. Not at all what I imagined. I kept my distance. There is nothing I can say right now that won’t sound completely cheeseball and cliche, so I’ll skip over all that cute stuff. His recovery is amazing, my parents like him, and we can talk for hours about everything from farting, to what our Higher Powers’ will for us is. We could talk for hours about stairs. And we have. Tomorrow, we are going to pick up the keys to our new apartment. And our apartment has stairs.
Stairs may not be a huge deal, but it is way beyond where we thought we would be at this point in our lives. Stairs are a big deal to us. We’re too young for stairs, too irresponsible for stairs, we weren’t expecting stairs. And yet, stairs are what we got. Beautiful, wood, floating stairs.
Tomorrow, I get to start a new chapter of my life, and a new chapter of my relationship. And I get to do it while walking up and down, and up and down stairs.