Thursday, September 19

The amazing transformation in one year.

I picked up the phone, still at my desk, unsure who was on the other line. It was an (805) number. It could have been anyone really. It could have been a telemarketer. It could have been a fellow deployed family calling from an odd number. It could have been Manson.

So I answered.

"Hi Ashley, it's Ben. I'm calling from the ______ Therapy Center with our 1-year follow up. Do you have a moment?"

Has it really been a year?, rushed through my mind.

"Yeah, sure. I'm at work, so you'll just hear some typing."

It was nearing 4:30, and this typically is when we're rounding out our day. I'm sending tracking information to my customers for their recent purchases, I'm hustling quotes for projects of my West Coast customers still in the office. And we're rocking out as a division to the local radios since incoming calls and leads are usually null.

But I was taken back to the day when I nervously sat outside the office unsure of what therapy would be like when I was a crumbled remain of a human after the loss of my first fur baby. I sat there and chewed on my nails. I sat there and stared at the boring carpet. I sat there and didn't hear the first calling of my name. "Ashley, come one in." OH wait, me? 

From the moment I was in his eyesight, I felt the burning eyes of judgement and analysis. I felt the review of my every moment. Where did I sit on the couch? Did I cross my legs at the knee or ankle? Did I shift towards him showing interest in the conversation? I sat on the far right. I sat with one leg tucked under the other. I sat leaning back on my left side. And I stared at the piles of files on the cabinet. The desks were lackluster and I didn't feel like this one of those luxury therapy suites like you see in the movies. Instead I felt that the therapy office felt like my life: ho hum.

We went thorough the basic questions of my growing up. And then, So, tell me, why are you here?

But this phone call to check-in reminded me how far I've come. While it was absolutely the most painful adult life experience yet to happen, my answers to the life questions is a rebounded "I'm great." There's no longer a lingering pain in my heart. Despite the deployment and the inability to land any further information of than, "They're still deployed," I was happy to report that I couldn't be in a better place in life.

Therapy: Would I do it again?

Honestly? Probably not. As a highly rational female, my therapy discussions involved dissecting my emotions to the rate that the therapist would agree and offer the words of, "It just takes time." Thank you. I'm well aware of the steps of grieving. Time is what I want to pass in a heartbeat so I no longer hurt. I want to feel comfortable again in my own home. I want to not be forced to sleep in the guest room since the master bed felt inconsolably empty without Aviator and English Bulldog. But instead my instincts took over. I pushed myself into work. I found projects that required my undying attention. I hustled hard and pushed for records projects and sales. I aimed for complete exhaustion by end of work day so all that was left was dinner, a cocktail, and the need for an early bedtime. So by the time that the work-ups were completed and the shove-off date of the USS I'd Like Jade Earrings (Please), I couldn't have been stronger. I'm like a man. Please, just let me figure my own shit out, put my head down, and get through my pain. And I got there (finally).

My conversation ended with Ben. He was ecstatic of my progress. And I went back to work. The time clocked down on my punch-out from the office and my ride home was anything but uneventful. I was proud at my accomplishment. I was proud of my ability to surpass the undreamt reality that we faced. And I was incredibly proud that the hurdle that was one a mountain, was now a beautiful molehill of slobber and unconditional love that changed my life.

1 comment:

  1. Props to you! Not only for getting help when you felt like you needed it - but also for recognizing how amazing you are & how far you've come! Why has no one figured out how to let our fur babies last forever? Effing polio & cloning took precedence over that?!