Boundaries

As my sweet husband and I take these first steps into Chapter 3 of our lives, I am finding that my world is shrinking. It seems that, for now, I am spending an awful lot of time alone. I've slowly withdrawn from groups and organizations in the area. I no longer am involved in church. I have no close friends that live nearby. My daughters all live at least 100 miles away. I go to the grocery store, the discount store, the post office. There are a few restaurants that my husband and I frequent. Other than that, I don't get out much.

This was not done by design. Not consciously, anyway. It's been a slow process. But last week I drove around Coeur d'Alene, our neighboring town. I hadn't been in that downtown area in quite a while. I drove past the apartments where I used to live. Drove past the beach where I used to take my kids. Drove past the churches I used to attend. Then I drove home. I realized just how much my life has changed since I first moved to this area 28 years ago.

I wasn't sad, exactly. More ... aware, I suppose. Aware of the trials these years have brought and that I've overcome. Aware of the choices I've made. Aware of how my mental illness has played a role in this journey -- and how much more balanced my life is now that I've had the diagnosis, treatment, and have learned to manage the bipolar fluctuations.

It makes entering this new chapter all that more poignant. All that more anticipatory. As the quotation above crystallizes, I see that I needed to stop some things so another thing -- already inside me -- can grow. I've put up some boundaries to harmful situations, so that my life can flower in other areas. I can stick my neck out, become involved with new-to-me people and organizations, release my creativity, expand my confidence, be courageous.



Mental illness is a challenge
but it can be managed
.