I’m learning that there’s a difference between copping out, cheating, dropping out of life, etc., and realizing you need some time and taking it. This time away isn’t a failure on my part. It’s not me saying “I can’t”, it’s me saying, “I can’t right now.” There’s a difference, and I’m learning it.
There are still things I struggle with. I dreamt about my friends from school last night for the first time since the hospital. On the one hand, seeing them was hard and painful, but on the other, it was glorious just to see their faces and feel like I was with them for a little while, if only in my head. It’s hard to realize how much you miss people – even people that were really only your peripheral friends or friends by association – until you’re away from them for months on end. And they seem to have forgotten you.
But I’m getting better. I’m getting ready to go back, to reenter the life I took a step back from with more gumption, sass, and energy than I left with. I’m not ready yet, no way. But I’m getting there. I don’t have my flame back, my passion, but there are sparks starting up here and there reminding me that I had it once and will get it back.
So this time out isn’t walking away, it’s just that: a time out. A breather. A break. A brief breath to remind me what it means to take better care of myself and not lose myself again. So I’m taking my time on this time away. Every glorious (and even not-so-glorious) second of it.
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