I had to go to my GP this morning. I needed to ask about this bloody virus I’ve had for three weeks (just rest and eat well and that’ll be $130 – thank you) and I needed to get a checkup for my antidepressants.
My doctor (K), who is a gorgeous and wholistic practitioner, asked about various emotional aspects of my life.
Small tears ran down my cheeks.
I told her about my current situation and my pain. About Mum’s fourth bout in rehab. About S2 relegating all responsibility for Mum’s recovery onto me. About being rejected by my BF and then his family who I felt I had real relationships with. About not fitting in to the Busselton community. About having no friends.
I tried to point out to K that I may be one of the few people in society who just don’t fit in. That I may be the “odd one out”.
For years, in stages, I’ve had to confront what would initially appear to be failures.
I call them failures because they are things that I value.
And I have attained not one of them.
A safe income.
Actually when I say I have not attained them, I of course mean that some I have had – and no longer have.
And it brings me to a crossroad.
If the elements of life which I wanted, cherished and valued are no longer, on the whole, available to me, then what do I do?
Do I seriously have to reset all my social & life goals? All of them?
Do I have to choose a new path in life that has no resemblance to my childhood and adolescent dreams?
I’m standing at the T Junction of Resilience.
Do I go left
Do I go right?