There seems to be a lot less drama in my life these days—or maybe I’m learning not to give it much attention. Or maybe this diet of green leafies is shifting something fundamental. Ah, but that’s a Story. Drama. Never mind.
Still there’s plenty of Life happening. I’ve been accepted into the Peer Support Specialist training program, which will start in a couple of weeks. Four days this month and four more days later (the date to be set) in Council Bluffs (by Omaha). I’m excited about it, but the thrill is tempered by the cost and also by the understanding that this is just a step. To deal with the cost I’ve petitioned my ‘church’ and other service organizations for financial assistance. No takers yet, but it’s early. My sister asked if there would be a job waiting for me once I was certified, and I had to laugh. Of course not. And there’s also no guarantee that I’d be able to hold a job anyway. Like I said, this is a step. What lies beyond it is a mystery.
My mom went back into the hospital on Saturday with a flare-up of congestive heart failure. Since my sis is on a much-needed vacation, I’m on point doing hospital duty and taking care of the details. All well and good as long as I take care of myself. I missed my water class this morning by oversleeping—both warning signals—so I must be careful. And I know that no matter how diligent I am, I might start cycling anyway. Hello, Stress, my old friend (Isn’t that a Simon and Garfunkel song?).
And last week was my intake visit at the new-for-me mental health clinic. This one is bigger, more bureaucratic, longer waiting times. But I enjoyed my visit with the nurse practitioner, even if I was a little nervous. Telling my whole story again felt weird. A lot of those details are lost to my swiss cheese memory, but, also, they don’t seem to have anything to do with who I am now. And it was a shock to be asked what kind of therapist I wanted. Really? There are choices? So we discussed options, and I asked if anyone was using Dialectic Behavior Therapy, since that model follows the closest to what I try to do with my Bipolar Bad-Assery. Gasp of gasps, two therapist offered that. So I have an appointment at the end of the month (right after I get back from my training session in Council Bluffs).
So there’s plenty of Life happening, but not so much drama. Maybe I’m delusional (it has been known to happen). Maybe I’m slipping too much into my Sherlock fantasies with the cute-as-a-hedgehog Dr. Watson (Hero Diversion—also known to happen). Or maybe I’m just okay.
Huh. That’s a new one.