Three Weeks in April - part 1

On Easter Sunday I did one of the hardest things I have ever done.  I stepped onto an airplane to fly to the other side of the country to get help to find the will to keep on living. to find out who I am. to learn how to live and not just function.

Easter Sunday 2010 - my children were both baptised. my son took first communion.  I was focusing on trying to capture some memories while I could - but Pastor noticed me slipping into my shell. "You're transitioning. Well, know that people care and we're praying for you."  Home, Wally World for last minute items, lunch, then a drive to the airport.  I asked hubby repeaatedly if he was sure this was the right thing.  If he was certain it was ok for me to leave for two weeks.  It seemed so selfish!  But something had to change.  something. one way or another. had. to. change.  That something was me.  Slightly nauseous, completely terrified, I boarded the plane at 6pm and finished my book on the way to Houston.

In Houston I sent a text to someone and said that I was tempted to just walk out of the airport and go to Mexico. Get a new identity and disappear.  Getting on the connecting flight was harder that the original one.  I called a dear friend and we chatted for a few minutes.  I vowed to sleep on the 4+ hour flight.  Nope. Watched a movie. Watched tv. Listened to my iPod. Fidgeted. Wiggled. Fretted. Worried.  Cried.  Likely drove the couple next to me crazy!!  I finally arrived at my hotel at 1:30am pacific time - 4:30am to my poor NC self.

After little sleep due to worry. nerves and fear, I did manage to enjoy the hotel's belgian waffles (YUM!)  and make a last minute phone call home.Then I reluctantly walked to the lobby to wait for my ride to The Place.  There was one other person in the lobby waiting for someone.  He was sitting by the door.  He looked like a business man on a trip.  The story I made up was that he was in town on business but was now waiting for the shuttle to take him back to the airport.  He looked tired. Like he had had a long trip.  Little did I know.  A van pulled up and a gal walked in and said both of our names.  He was going to The Place also? But he looks so together. Normal. Not shattered like me.  What am I getting myself into?

We get there and are told to leave our stuff in the van and go inside to the lobby to wait.  The lobby is a place we will get to know very well in the coming days.  I sit down and wish for the floor to open up and swallow me.  There are people everywhere!  They are talking and laughing and interacting and being loud.  Some try to introduce themselves to me, but I just look at the floor.  I am not there to make friends.

I went with 3 goals:
1. Make no friends
2. Throw everything on the floor - being completely honest and open
3. Have them fix everything and send me home 'normal.'

Those will be updated later!

They finally lead the guy and I over to another room and we started signing stacks of papers.  I have no idea what all I signed.  As he said, "I didn't sign this many when I got a mortgage!"  Another person showed up and we were given a tour, rules, regulations, books, snack bars, etc.  I sat in my chair still wishing for the floor to swallow me.  What was I doing?  Did I make the right decision?  Will being here really help anything? I just sat there - quiet. in my own cocoon.

I was shown to my housing and left to unpack and settle in.  It was a large house that had two kitchens, slept 8 and was at the top of a steep hill. I initially had the entire top floor to myself.  That suited me just fine! The less interaction with others, the better!

Meetings, testing, waiting in the over crowded and loud lobby.  I was exhausted by the end of the day!  I went to my room and cried.  I was so scared of being there. Scared of what may or may not happen.  Everybody else looked so sure of themselves. They were laughing. Happy. How could they do that?