Wait and See, together

The first thing you don’t do after logging into the app for your primary care physician and seeing Leukocytosis is Google Leukocytosis. 

You might be tempted to – I was. But for Christ’s sake, don’t do it. Just pick up the phone and call your doctor. 

The flip side of me is we. 

This year provided a mixed bag. On the one hand, I dug into myself to learn more about how to heal old wounds keeping me from healthy relationships. On the other, it’s been a process of trimming the fat, and letting go of those who no longer serve my sanity or sobriety well.

Along with letting go of the unhealthy, I have to find people to connect with who are healthy. At the end of the day, I’m just as good about avoiding healthy people as I am in pursuing unhealthy people. I find it difficult sometimes to know when to be vulnerable, when to share, and when to trust.

I’ve been in this painful, inbetween place for a while. In recovery, I’ve talked a little about my family but have mostly focused on the reactivity around them, the pain I feel with everything that has happened. I haven’t really looked deeply at why the pain exists or why I’m wired in the way that I am. Even if I determine why I am the way I am, I doubt it would have much affect on my behavior.

And it’s frustrating, right? To think understanding why would course correct my brain somehow? That having the answers would alleviate the pain. That doing the work would mean happiness and contentment.

It’s not true. Knowledge alone did not cure my alcoholism; I’m not sure why I would think it would alleviate the pain around codependency, depression, and grief. Recovery requires more than that.

It requires structure to change behavior. It requires fellow travelers. And my choice of both structure and fellow traveler have never been ideal. In fact, they’ve been toxic.

The two most important words we can hear are me too.

I’ve been stopped by a lot of people after meetings: people who have struggled with elderly parents, people who have struggled with relatives with cancer, people who have chosen to take medication in sobriety.

The medication part, that’s the latest iteration of this year’s adventure. Between my parents, other family crap, financial crap, and my flat-lined professional career, I’ve had to think through how I’m handling the multiple layers of stress.

I’m sure you’ve figured out that I’m not handling it well if I’m considering medication. There’s a part of me that’s scared to death: I wonder what affect it will have on how I think or emote. I mean, I’ve been struggling to just connect with people.

On the other hand, I feel like my emotions are balled up and laying on my chest. It’s difficult to breathe or even sleep. Typically I would be able to take things in stride but lately, I’ve stumbled over everything.

There is no I in team but there is an I in meat pie.

He noticed my frustration and I didn’t try to hide it. He asked if I was open to talking. I was. 

Everything for the past year has felt so much bigger than I am. It seemed unsurmountable. Twice this year, my therapist has said, “I am worried about what’s happening for you. Can we talk about medication?”

The first time she mentioned it, I brushed it off. When we came full circle two to three months later, I’ve taken her seriously. 

My parents’ situations have been less than stable, my work life is unstable, my financial outlook is bleak. While I am working diligently to move the ball forward, I am struggling with stress. 

It’s not the first time in recovery I have felt overwhelmed. This time, though, I can address it more constructively. I started medication last week, and wow, what a placebo effect it had. We’ll see how I feel once it kicks in. 

In the meantime, life’s problems will just be taken as they come, starting with the leukocytosis and what I need to do to address it – whatever it is. I did Google it. And I scared the shit out of myself. I had to remind myself that I do not have  medical degree, and like most things, I have to wait for clarity. 

For now, though, I am reminded that I don’t have to do this alone. Learning patience is something my mind has struggled with, but it’s easier knowing I am surrounded by people who love me. The older timers have always loved to remind me to keep living my life and more will be revealed.