It is one of the most beautiful days that I have seen in a long time on this island. I realize that I prefer crisp weather with a certain chill, and how this makes the bright sunshine even more prudent. We have totally and officially transitioned from late summer warmth, where we were still fitting in late afternoon swims in the low pond, and we have arrived at earlier nights and rainy days, that like today, are followed with a dry and clean cold autumn reality. There is still life; leaves hanging on for one last glimmer, and grass that is green and eking out a little growth before the total transition into hibernation. I laughed at the magazines in the store previewing scenes and ideas for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and though I dread conversations about holiday planning, right now I get to appreciate the newness of this special autumn light and coolness, without the drone or oppressive feelings that the holidays provide with their endless ads, and their attempts to lift the seasonal depression that hits the majority of the population. It is as if I get the best of both worlds in this transition season.

This last week I have been riddled with a worried dread and anxiety that I have had to push through, as I sought out an equilibrium, while transitioning off of a medication that has been present in my life for over a year. I have been working hard at arriving at stability. I have worked my way off of this medication, that has a direct therapeutic quality, and also results in side effects that are permanent and potentially irreversible. There have been many times over these last four years, where I have earnestly welcomed this medication into my life, because it works so definitely. It is also apparent that I need to wean myself off of this medication if I can find increased mental stability. My program of recovery these last twelve months, and a dedication to taking new medications that have been difficult to adjust to because of heavy side effects, have brought me to this place where I am privileged enough to finally go off of one of my meds. Still, the truth remains, that once this medication was completely out of my system, I had to reckon with my tendency to push myself too hard while appropriately adjusting my behaviors, and then quell general anxiety and worry until the transition period was complete. I was able to do this over this last week, and I awoke today feeling as though I had successfully found an equilibrium. This, coupled with the enormous beauty of today, feels like blessings multiplied.

All of the hard work and study and meetings has paid off. I can see real results. Emerging on the other end of a fog of worry and dread that plagued me for a week, my mental slate is wiped clean. I can’t quite realize how I arrived here, and I can’t exactly quantify the recipe for this success. It just arrived. I emerged, after a whole year of attending meetings, taking debilitating meds, and sticking with it. I am not saying that I can handle anything; this is far from the truth. Accepting that I cannot handle everything, and humbling myself at the altar of my addiction and mental illness, resulted in everything being okay. I feel refreshed, and reunited with my faith. Truly embracing and accepting my weakness has me feeling completely remade.

As one of the many playlists I assembled over this long COVID-filled summer for my long walks down the country roads of Lopez plays in my earbuds, I sit blissfully at my computer after deciding to blow off my emails, while breathing in the scents of Steve’s cooking, and letting myself unfold into this writing with no end destination in sight. That is what it feels like today. I have found the path, and I have decided to travel down the road. There is no more mountain that I am attempting to traverse and climb, and there is no more unrelenting struggle that I just cannot shake. I know that I am far from perfect. The farther I get from perfect, the finer I become.