Having been a certified (certifiable?) commitment-phobe for the best part of 38 years, this was new ground for me and to be approached with a quite considerable degree of trepidation. I'd packed my car to the gunnels and fled the village within 24 hours when the last bloke asked me to move in with him, leaving behind my favourite raincoat and half-finished book. Inconvenient but not worth the risk to freedom of going back. (There was more to it, like having only known him a few weeks and his pathological fear of daylight, but you get the picture!)
But, this time I took the plunge. I was going to start by committing to myself and getting better the full-on, headlong, long-term, never-going-through-this-again way. It involved some stiff conversations with myself and reprogramming to remove the gnawing, self-effacing guilt voice telling me that I should be shelving my problems with a quick fix, rushing back to work, papering over the cracks with industrial polyfilla and dealing with it all when I was ready. When I was ready, when I had more time, when I had finished my Masters degree, when I had more support, when, when, when, when.... Whatever.
I am working with a private psychologist to sort out my mind. I'm 14 sessions in and probably have the same number again left to go before I will feel ready to pedal through life on my own again. Worth every penny but the commitment required not to be underestimated. I committed to a session once a week for six months, to preparing before and reflecting after each session, to riding the wave in between sessions, to embracing a mindfulness programme, to telling the truth. Even the bits I was most ashamed of . Commitment to absolute honesty (with myself).
Of course it's the doctor who controls the med stash and I'm taking the Sertraline 28 days at a time. But it wasn't plain sailing having tried and rejected Citalopram and Mirtazapine and finally finding a medication that worked. For me. Commitment to trial and error.
Inextricably linked with my struggling mind, my body stopped me in my tracks. And where in the past I had resorted to heavy physical exercise to quiet my mind and elevate the endorphins, my body entertained me for a few weeks letting me run out in the April sun and then just closed me down. I got 30 mins into a flat, riverside run and the silent pain was debilitating- consuming me through every fibre of every muscle. I stopped twice and started again. I stopped for good and walked back along the freshly-mown bank. I've been seeing the same chiropractic since I had a riding injury aged 11 and booked straight in with him for a check-up. I explained where my head was at and he understood instantly. Through my back he released the pressure and allowed the surfeit of adrenalin to flood out of my saturated muscles. Within half and hour I just wanted to put my head down and sleep as the recovery phase kicked in. Within two days I felt taller, lighter, freer than ever before. Commitment to solutions from those who've helped you all your life.
Perhaps the most curious, and definitely the most bank-breaking one, was the dentist. Over the course of the last year I had cracked two teeth, two big old masticators side by side, and spent 6 months, six sessions and a 4-figure sum on double root canal treatment. I'd put it down to just one of those things but it wasn't characteristic of my teeth to let me down. I told the dentist (again, someone who has treated me all my life) what I'd told the chiropractic about the last few months and he reacted in the same way. Suddenly it all made sense to him as well. The stress had been causing me to lock my jaw, grind my teeth at night and crack them. Commitment to zero stress-related medical bills in the future!
Joking aside, what I had realised through the medical support I was receiving from all these brilliant, miracle-working people, who understood exactly what I needed, was not only how lucky I was to have them in my life at this crucial point, but also through the simple act of committing to myself how I may just have saved my life. I hadn't realised the damage I had been doing to myself over a prolonged period of time. I have taken six months away from work to rest, recuperate and reap the full benefits of therapy and self-re-discovery and I've learnt commitment.
Hello, Mr. Right, I'm almost ready!
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