Still Alive

The 2011-2012 school year finds me back in academia as a student for the first time since 2003.  Among all the things currently on my plate, I find this one particularly enjoyable.  My M/W morning teacher starts each class asking us how we are.

My response last Wednesday: "I'm still alive".

Understanding lit my instructor's face.  She had faxes from my physicians and knows from last fall that for me to actually take time AWAY from school I have to be feeling very rough.  I'm stubborn, the scion of strong, Nordic-Lutheran women.  Generations worth.  Heads down we sally forth, undeterred by the adversity.

Mental illness goes in cycles, good and bad patches.  I'm currently clawing myself out of a particularly bad patch.  A worse one than I've had in some time; it's been equally scary and sobering.  After close to three weeks of riding out the pendulum, I seem to have regained my sea legs.  I took several days off from classes, and haven't put in any work for my online employer in almost two weeks.  Last Wednesday was my first day back to class, and by the time I got home I was EXHAUSTED.  No class for Presidents' Day, so I've one more day of quiet.

This week will be the real test.  I'm still playing catch-up, but I have friends who miss me when I'm not at school.  That thought buoys me as I squash the fatigue and trepidation I feel at returning to my activities near-full tilt this week.  Rest is one thing, hiding another.  I know from past seasons that the longer I stay away, the harder it will be to return.

So I will take it slow, lean on friends, and take it slow.  Did I say that twice?  Yes, I did.  I meant to.  I'll rely upon certain trusted councillors to help me with accountability until I'm able to fully take that mantle upon myself again.

Breathe, center, ground.  Rinse, repeat.  All the while giving thanks for those who love me, and for the miracles of modern medicine.