It’s Time

Over the past year, I have been.. “recovering.” A word I seldom choose to use simply because the connotation is that I’ve been sick or hurt. In a way, I have been sick, and I have been hurt. I don’t want to admit that.

It’s time.

It’s time to finish what I started with my graduate school. In the Spring of 2017 I took medical leave for the situational depression from which I suffered. Regardless of what you believe about depression or any ailment of the mind, being abandoned and discarded like used trash can do that to a person. Basically, divorce and death go hand-in-hand, especially if all ties have been cut. So yes, medical leave was the way I had to go.

During the fall semester when everything happened, I held on with everything I had. I scraped by with my group mates and projects, I hurried through papers and research just to get them done so I could go to sleep and dream a false reality rather than live my nightmare. Although I got much of my work extended and had to take an additional month to complete my work, I thought I could make it through the spring semester.

Of course, I was wrong. Within weeks, I was behind again, and there was no way I could pull myself through this time. I have pulled myself through so many things. Dug my heels in and said, “Fck it. I’m going to get through this, kicking and screaming, I’m going to get through this.” Not this time… No matter how much I kicked, screamed, cried, raged,  or pleaded on bended knee, I was not getting through this…. back then.

This is now. More than a year since I thought my life ended, and almost a year since I “gave up” on myself for a little while.

But it’s time.

It’s time to finish what I started, and it’s time to begin again on the dream I made; to begin again on the contract I wrote with myself.

It’s time.

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Goodbye and Good Riddance

I am usually the sentimental type when it’s time to move along. In this case, however, I’m ready to blow this Popsicle stand. There is something more violent I might do if it didn’t violate my lease… 🙂

This “home,” this apartment, is an ugly smudge on my memory. For two years I inhabited this place, and this is the place where my hopes and dreams came to die. So I will read their eulogies and get the hell out of Dodge. Unlike my apartment in Tarboro, I will not miss this cemetery of lost hopes and dreams. Of holes in the walls made from anger, broken door hinges from violent outbursts… if these walls could talk, they would weep. I am no victim. I am a survivor.

So, cool. I’m out. Time for my little farmhouse out in BFE (Bumfck Egypt), where the crickets will sing their lullabies and stars will be my nightlight.

“The thing of it is – the very best part – is I have time now. All the time I want and all the time I need. Time enough at last.” – The Twilight Zone