Acceptance Pt. 1: The Return

Needless to say, acceptance took a while.

Not because enough people didn’t tell me. Believe me — they did. But because I was sick and tired of feeling so goddamn broken.

So what did I do? I ignored it. There was nothing wrong. I was fine. I was ok. Great, even.

Ya know, denial.

Months passed after the initial phone therapy session with Sara Miller, and I did my best to move forward. It seemed my two favorite solutions were to; 1.) Ignore feelings of anxiety completely. 2.) Work harder.

So, thats what I did.

Ya know, denial…

A few months later I was reassigned from Swansea, Wales to Derby (pronounced DAH-bee for some british reason), England, and, after a few months of using my favorite two tactics, acceptance finally caught up with me.

Thankfully for me, instead of a complete mental straight jacket breakdown, my acceptance came in the form of a 4’11’’ ball of fury — Katrina Marsden. To anyone meeting her for the first time, this sweet little Idaho-grown potato would be the kindest, most soft-spoken human you ever did see.

To me, a loaded history stepped off the train alongside her.

Months of fighting due to my inability to control frustrating feelings of failure. Blame shifting. Cutting her down to make myself feel better. Me angrily bicycling away from her leaving her alone for a whole day (extremely against mission rules, apologies mission president). Anger. Frustration. Disagreement.

Katrina and I had lived and worked together during my introduction to anxiety. As I transitioned from Swansea to Derby, I had gladly left her behind. In short, I thought I’d never see her again.

Yet, sandwiched between two abnormally large suitcases, there she was.

Sent to live and work with me once again.