**************Scene 19 - It’s a New Year*************
I remember when I left Magee Rehabilitation Hospital.
It was December 23rd, and I was going to be Home for Christmas
What’s more, I was going to be home for New Years Eve,
and this was the big one -
into the Year 2000 -
And I was returning home for the Mother of all New Years Celebrations -
See, Bloomsburg, my town, was going all out with a First Night celebration -
It’s this
city wide spectacle to bring in the New Year,
and there was going to be live music downtown,
and games,
and street theater,
and the rotary club was dancing the polka,
and there was Lots of Fried food,
- it was my First trip downtown,
and Everyone was there.
I was walking around - with my parents help -
We saw my friends there,
and my parents’ friends,
and people who I had never met before but who had heard about me through their friends
- it’s a small town thing -
and I thanked Each and Every person for their love and support,
and I told them,
without your love and support I would not be where I am today,
So thank you.
Thank you.
Thank You.
And sometimes it might bet a little bit weird - but then I would laugh,
and I remember Balloons, and confetti, streamers, and thinking This is My New Year
I was returning home
Alive.
I had been given a chance to view life in a new way.
I had been to the Gates of Hell
and I had visited Heaven.
and now it was time for me to share all that I had learned.
And it was going to be good - it was going to be Real good -
A new Life with new Millennium.
Here we go…
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two…
************************************************
This was my Celebration.
Or, at least, that’s how it felt.
I’ve always had a theatrical flamboyance, and to have my homecoming seem like it was heralded by a citywide celebration was amazing!
Be clear - cognitively, I knew that this New Year party wasn’t about me - but it felt like it might be - just a little. It felt - this was the scene in the family television drama when - when the boy graduates - when the father reunites with his daughter - when the hero comes home.
That’s what I wanted it to be - the grand conclusion - because in the TV show, once the protagonist completes his or her transformation and makes the return, the movie is done. You can stand up, brush the crumbs off your lap, go to the bathroom, wash your hands, and move on with your life feeling a little bit happier because the movie worked out.
In my story, I felt like I had gone through my trails and learning at the hospital - yes they had told me that the healing would continue for years, that I would continue to discover and experience new limitations in my abilities - but now I was out! I was coming home! Things would only be better from now on!
I thought.
This was my Celebration.
Upon reflection, this moment brings up two sensations - joy and melancholy.
First, this is a moment of joy - let’s just call it for what it is - a moment when I am celebrating the work I have done - with my community - to bring be brought back from the hospital - now the emotions and events have all been squished together in my head - its a porridge of momentary memories - but I remember coming home - waving goodbye to the nurses - leaving the hospital - I remember a golden warmth in my household - to celebrate Christmas - and I remember that First Night - excitement - celebration - maybe the journey wasn’t over, but the end result was clear -
- and I can’t help but view this with a tinge of melancholy, because I know the difficulties and pain still to come. It’s that moment in the movie when it seems like everything is perfect, but then you look at the time and you’re…maybe 20 minutes into the film. Having seen this film before, I know the hardest parts are still ahead - but we need to be clear that the real emotion in this bundle is joy.
JOY!
Had I known the future, perhaps I wouldn’t have reveled in this with the same exuberance, but at the time I had no idea, and it didn’t matter - at that time, I don’t know. We can never have certainty about a future moment - we can make a prediction, but any prediction might easily be disrupted by a stiff breeze. What we feel NOW is true - and in that now, I felt joy.
Therefore, I’ll take the memory for what it is -
It’s a bit ignorant - yes - but that doesn’t matter- it was what it should always be.
I believe we should try to allow pure memories such as this to exist - unaffected by future memories that tint the past. Examples - this might be acceptance to a college that later turned out to be a disaster - a relationship beginning with magic and ending in catastrophe - a moment of - ?false? - hope in recovery. The fatalist might argue that this momentary pleasure creates a false optimism - that a moment is truly happy only when we can reflect upon it from the future. To this point I argue that, as humans, we often do feel the greatest pain after the greatest joy - but if we don’t remain optimistic that we will feel such joy again, why do we try?
Returning to the film metaphor, this is when the hero has just completed some great task - maybe he’s climbed a mountain, but danger lies ahead - the movie’s not done yet. If I’m watching this film, this is when I want the camera to pull back so we - the audience - can appreciate the scenery. In recovery, as in life, there are countless mountain tops - and these are consistently followed by struggle - I suggest that when you’re at the top of the mountain, take a moment and enjoy the view.
That’s what I got - take it for what it is.
I remember when I left Magee Rehabilitation Hospital.
It was December 23rd, and I was going to be Home for Christmas
What’s more, I was going to be home for New Years Eve,
and this was the big one -
into the Year 2000 -
And I was returning home for the Mother of all New Years Celebrations -
See, Bloomsburg, my town, was going all out with a First Night celebration -
It’s this
city wide spectacle to bring in the New Year,
and there was going to be live music downtown,
and games,
and street theater,
and the rotary club was dancing the polka,
and there was Lots of Fried food,
- it was my First trip downtown,
and Everyone was there.
I was walking around - with my parents help -
We saw my friends there,
and my parents’ friends,
and people who I had never met before but who had heard about me through their friends
- it’s a small town thing -
and I thanked Each and Every person for their love and support,
and I told them,
without your love and support I would not be where I am today,
So thank you.
Thank you.
Thank You.
And sometimes it might bet a little bit weird - but then I would laugh,
and I remember Balloons, and confetti, streamers, and thinking This is My New Year
I was returning home
Alive.
I had been given a chance to view life in a new way.
I had been to the Gates of Hell
and I had visited Heaven.
and now it was time for me to share all that I had learned.
And it was going to be good - it was going to be Real good -
A new Life with new Millennium.
Here we go…
Five,
Four,
Three,
Two…
************************************************
This was my Celebration.
Or, at least, that’s how it felt.
I’ve always had a theatrical flamboyance, and to have my homecoming seem like it was heralded by a citywide celebration was amazing!
Be clear - cognitively, I knew that this New Year party wasn’t about me - but it felt like it might be - just a little. It felt - this was the scene in the family television drama when - when the boy graduates - when the father reunites with his daughter - when the hero comes home.
That’s what I wanted it to be - the grand conclusion - because in the TV show, once the protagonist completes his or her transformation and makes the return, the movie is done. You can stand up, brush the crumbs off your lap, go to the bathroom, wash your hands, and move on with your life feeling a little bit happier because the movie worked out.
In my story, I felt like I had gone through my trails and learning at the hospital - yes they had told me that the healing would continue for years, that I would continue to discover and experience new limitations in my abilities - but now I was out! I was coming home! Things would only be better from now on!
I thought.
This was my Celebration.
Upon reflection, this moment brings up two sensations - joy and melancholy.
First, this is a moment of joy - let’s just call it for what it is - a moment when I am celebrating the work I have done - with my community - to bring be brought back from the hospital - now the emotions and events have all been squished together in my head - its a porridge of momentary memories - but I remember coming home - waving goodbye to the nurses - leaving the hospital - I remember a golden warmth in my household - to celebrate Christmas - and I remember that First Night - excitement - celebration - maybe the journey wasn’t over, but the end result was clear -
- and I can’t help but view this with a tinge of melancholy, because I know the difficulties and pain still to come. It’s that moment in the movie when it seems like everything is perfect, but then you look at the time and you’re…maybe 20 minutes into the film. Having seen this film before, I know the hardest parts are still ahead - but we need to be clear that the real emotion in this bundle is joy.
JOY!
Had I known the future, perhaps I wouldn’t have reveled in this with the same exuberance, but at the time I had no idea, and it didn’t matter - at that time, I don’t know. We can never have certainty about a future moment - we can make a prediction, but any prediction might easily be disrupted by a stiff breeze. What we feel NOW is true - and in that now, I felt joy.
Therefore, I’ll take the memory for what it is -
It’s a bit ignorant - yes - but that doesn’t matter- it was what it should always be.
I believe we should try to allow pure memories such as this to exist - unaffected by future memories that tint the past. Examples - this might be acceptance to a college that later turned out to be a disaster - a relationship beginning with magic and ending in catastrophe - a moment of - ?false? - hope in recovery. The fatalist might argue that this momentary pleasure creates a false optimism - that a moment is truly happy only when we can reflect upon it from the future. To this point I argue that, as humans, we often do feel the greatest pain after the greatest joy - but if we don’t remain optimistic that we will feel such joy again, why do we try?
Returning to the film metaphor, this is when the hero has just completed some great task - maybe he’s climbed a mountain, but danger lies ahead - the movie’s not done yet. If I’m watching this film, this is when I want the camera to pull back so we - the audience - can appreciate the scenery. In recovery, as in life, there are countless mountain tops - and these are consistently followed by struggle - I suggest that when you’re at the top of the mountain, take a moment and enjoy the view.
That’s what I got - take it for what it is.
This post first appeared on Who Am I Now? Reflections On Recovery, please read the originial post: here
