New Heights

It is autumn again, and I am busy all the time. I constantly visualize in colors the schedule of my days, weeks, months. I think of my time in mathematical terms and qualitative phrases, weighing my options and criticizing my choices. Looking back, this is how my last school year began. Only, after a week or two, the downhill came. I reached the ledge at a speed to fast to stall. And I stumbled over, rolling and rolling downward. But now it is different – I can feel it in my bones, my core, my soul.
As time has flown by, positive changes have struck me. I have spent time with the love of my life, I have mended old wounds, and I have worked hard towards my future. I have taken a good kick-start into my last year before graduation, and I have been accepted into a new dance program that will help train me to a more professional level. I have constant yet non-paternalistic support from both my family and my mental health services. I am in therapy. I like my therapist. I haven’t had a relapse in 116 days.
I am 20 years old.
I have finally escaped the constricting social window of being a teenager.
Though, biologically, I know I have not yet reached full maturity per se, I feel that I have crossed an important threshold.
I guess this coincides with my graduation and the up-coming merge into higher education. I am starting to have a better picture of my near future, which has helped my mind settle a good bit. While it is needed to have a reasonable amount of certainty in one’s life, I consider it just as important to maintain a level of spontaneity, a good warm embrace of the unknown and unexpected.
I have climbed many mountains in the past five years, and have fallen down ledges on various occasions. I have lost my equipment repeatedly, taking my time rediscover them. I have stuck through landslides and tough, cold winds. I have regrown the armor eroded by weather. I have stuck broken pieces together with duct tape. All in all, I consider myself a fighter.


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