The aftermath…
Am still powerless, dependent, weak and my life is no more manageable than it was two days ago.

What comes after the declaration. The admission. The first step?
Wallowing, despair, fear, doubt, hopelessness and a dire lack of faith in your self. But you trust the system, I realise that you have to detach yourself from the process– if the process feels familiar then you’re bound to repeat your mistakes.

So yeah, am in this, but am also not. Does it make it any harder? Considerably so. But its quantifiable because I can stand aside and count hours and borrow strength and resolve from sources and devices that are not my own.

The immediate days after admission are the hardest. The first step of any journey isn’t the hardest, it’s the step that comes next. That follow up that has to amount to something valid and tangible.

I guess where I am, the idea of progress is scary, it scares me just like the profundity of the idea of God scares someone on an honest quest to find Him. Because sometimes failure is easier to understand, success is harder to handle because its a foundation and you have to keep on building.
Whereas failure is about licking dry your wounds, wallowing in self-pity and then dusting off to start over.
And that, my fellow rabbits,  is our original sin, the second chance.


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