Have you ever relapsed?
My bad, we didn’t breathe… hold on.
*exhales*
Let me give you a definition before you say no. According to Psychology Today, “The general meaning of relapse is a deterioration in health status after an improvement.”. Let’s go even deeper with that definition, shall we?
Anything that was in your world that was unhealthy for you, that you were free from, that at some point you went back to and caused your health (mental, emotional, physical) to decline, would be considered a relapse.
We need to take another breath, or you cool? Let’s just do it anyways.
*Loud exhale*
So, I relapsed (let’s all laugh together).
I was in SUCH a healthy place, my goodness. Exploring my city, trying new foods, meeting new people, writing consistently, getting in a little rhythm, like having a ball. But I had a moment… and… I… ugh.
See, when you're in transition sometimes you long for stability or something that makes you feel "comfortable". In this instance whatever seems familiar, makes you feel secure because you're navigating foreign waters.
Anyhow, there was someone in my life who I had parted ways with, and rightfully so. After a few months of distance, I had the desire and inkling to re-open the door. Let me just stop and say that I don’t know what it is about our human experience that just yearns for danger. Like Simba, SAT DINEEEE. The stove is hot, the hyenas are lurking, and the vultures are waiting their turn to devour you… but we just gotta find out for ourselves. “I’ll just send this text”, “I just want to check on them”, “Let me look on their page to see what’s up”… welp, buckle up buttercup ‘cause you’re about to go for a ride. But once again, I wanted to feel "normal"... isn't that strange?
So, I re-opened the door. I sent the check-in text, they responded instantly, and we were right back in the cycle. Like EARTH TO QUEL, You don’t see the pattern here?!? Or do you just enjoy the thrill of instability and chaos? This literally tells you that nothing has changed, and you’re probably about to go backwards… fast. And I did.
I didn't need to add this element into my already loaded gumbo pot, but again... I wanted to feel "normal". This is what addiction does to you; makes you feel as if you NEED the thing to exist or to survive. But instead of feeling like I was on top of the world, I started sinking again. Instead of feeling the joy of the Lord, I felt alone and crazy. But because I longed for that connection so desperately, I suffered through it… I mean they deserve love and care too, right? But at who’s expense, my girl? You’re literally losing your mind and falling slowly back into depression because of this one-sided fiasco that you’ve willingly signed up for…again. It was as if something inside of me was screaming, "READ THE ROOM BABY, PLEASE!"
THE STOVE IS HOT. But I digress.
But on a Saturday morning around 3 am I woke up from a very deep sleep, and I felt the Lord wanting to talk. And I mean like, my body got physically hot. (Ya'll know I can't sleep when I'm hot) I didn’t know where to start with my words, so I opened a note on my phone, and I started typing. I didn’t initially write about this particular situation, but I certainly ended up on the topic after a few paragraphs. I typed out all the things I needed to say, all the things that I hadn’t shared openly, all my feelings, all my woes about this entire rollercoaster freely. Because, as you know... the last 6 months have been a literal ride.
And in the very next paragraph I said, “God, I give you permission to interrupt my life. And whatever you do… I know it won’t be to kill me.”. Needless to say by this point, my bed sheets were soaked with tears because they’d been flowing since I typed the very first sentence.
The next Sunday in church, I cried… the entire… service. I mean the whole service, uncontrollably. Like, the tears that just run so fast you can’t even get to a tissue, cry. At first, I was trying to make sense of my tears, but eventually I just stopped trying to figure it out. My body was grieving without my permission, and I needed to allow it to happen. I mean, I did give God permission to interrupt all of it, didn't I?
By the end of the day, I was emotionally drained but one feeling kept coming up, “Enough is enough .”.
So Monday, I made some decisions, closed off some access points, and then I started the process of forgiving myself for making choices that I knew wouldn't benefit me.
And you know the best part? I've felt joy coming back every day since. The relapse was never worth it, I just had to get burned by the stove... again.
Here's to healing... in waves. *Very Loud Exhale*
Talk soon,
Racq