Stick it out

We were talking the other night about how in the bible the 12 spies go to check out Israel; 10 come back positive it’ll never workout, but Caleb and Joshua disagree.

I tend to be one of those other ten dudes… Actually, I think most of us do, that’s why they were represented by such an overwhelming majority.

But still, let’s be honest. Things don’t really tend to work out for me. I mean, what normal person needs an entire decade to earn an AA degree? Pretty much just me.

All these years I’ve been working on an education degree, knowing full well that I want nothing to do with teaching. At least not as a classroom teacher. It just seemed like the best option… Until I went to the orientation and it was completely paralyzing. I can’t devote that amount of time and money into something I already hate.

Fortunately, I have an eating disorder, and complicated, unresolved grief that probably can’t ever be fixed… But it means I’ve spent a lot of time with a bunch of therapists too. So that means I’ve spent a lot of time trying to create a clear picture of what I do want.

I want to:
Help people
Be creative
Work outside
Do yoga
Advocate and support anyone with special needs
Have a flexible and dynamic schedule
Financial security

Turns out… All that has a name. It’s not just a bunch of random whims bundled up. There’s a thing called recreational therapy. I found a program in state and applied. I’ll get in because I have an AA degree, so they have to accept me. There’s some mess with prereqs, but I already talked to an advisor and it won’t be an issue or keep me from being accepted.

I’m determined to stick it out this time. I really want it, in a way I never thought I’d experience again. As a world class athlete there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to get there. I didn’t make it, the accident derailed that dream. But all of the the hours and hours and hours training, traveling alone, sleeping in yacht club bathrooms, it wasn’t a burden. Suddenly, finishing school doesn’t feel like such an oppressive task either.

I need a job and stuff… But if I can just hang in there for two more years, I’ll have all of the training and background to land or create my perfect job.

The MV is harsh. Critical. Every time I try to move forward it shouts

You are sick. You always will be. This doesn’t go away. It doesn’t get better. Restrict. Restrict. Restrict. You are safe in here.

I have to fight that. I am. But I can’t take rests.

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