One year ago, the psychologist who diagnosed me and helped me on the road to recovery during my darkest time asked me where my mind went when I thought of a safe haven. Where did I want to be?
I told him, the first thing that came to my mind was autumn. A fall day. And I was at the corn maze at the local pumpkin patch. It’s huge, the one in my area. And I love all things fall, from pumpkin spice lattes to boots, to turning leaves. At the time this question was posed to me, I was on the edge because my brain perceived the world to be ending for me. So the idea that I could be happy, carefree, and beautiful during the holiday season, fully enjoying every part of autumn with the people I love, was a beautiful dream to me. It seemed, at the time, to be unattainable. Like heaven.
I just realized that my boyfriend and I are going to the local pumpkin patch and corn maze. And it’s autumn and the leaves are turning. And it’s been a year since the day my psychologist asked me that question. My OCD, while still a pesky jerk who invades every aspect of my life, has not killed me yet. I’m going. If I choose, I get to have that dream and that safe haven in a few hours. If you read my last post, you know that I have allowed myself to slip back into a precarious place. As result, I’ve been pretty pessimistic, ungrateful, and melancholic. How shocking, now that I remember that conversation and that vision. I can choose to have a mindfulness moment right now, and I’m going to. I still have a wonderful life.