Entry 23: Puzzle

I have been working on the 500-piece puzzle of Venice, Italy for the past few days. Today I spent almost eight hours working on it, and I ended up finishing it tonight!

 “Life is like a puzzle,” in so many aspects; but I am going to take it a step further and say, “Recovery is like a puzzle.”

When I was in the process of opening the box I thought of my struggles with self-harm and recovery.

Okay so I get the box, and it was like all taped up around all four sides and I thought there was no way of opening it! Which correlates with the spiral of self-harm: once I started there was no getting out. I had to then think of different ways to get the box open, because I didn’t have scissors; so I used a pen. Sometimes, I had to find different ways to take steps forward, and the pen would correlate to my first hospital stays.

When I got it open, I saw all of the pieces and got overwhelmed. Overwhelmed, was the feeling I felt when I was introduced to coping skills and told to go out and utilize them. I started taking pieces out, flipping them over and separating them. I took the end pieces and put them in a pile, and I separated all of the other pieces by color. This process reminded me of taking a coping skill out of the box and attempting to use it.

The end pieces were my slip-ups; which there were very many of. In some bunches of pieces I was separating, there were many end pieces, and in others, there were only a few. But I did have periods when I relapsed, and I would stay in that relapse cycle for days, even weeks (probably even months). Then I have clean-streaks! I have had many clean streaks; and I would be going strong, but then something would happen and I would choose to hurt myself instead of using my coping skills. Those relapses were my end pieces. Then, I got to the last bunch I was separating and there were no end pieces; my successful journey right now.

Next, I went through all of the end pieces to try and get a frame so I could begin filling it in. Sifting through the end pieces would represent going to treatment, because that’s where all of the major progress was made. That’s when I learned to talk about all of my “end pieces” and started healing from them. Which would be reflected through the completion of the frame.

Filling in the pieces, piece by piece is a reflection of my day-to-day life. They were separated into sections via colors, and there were times I was working on a really vibrant section, and I would find a piece that fit perfectly in a different section. It’s just like when I am going through a easy length of time, where nothing bad is really happening and then there is that one day that is just horrible and awful.

Once this happens, I would stay in a rut for a while; work on the section I switched to. This new section was so much easier because I would fill in the pieces really quick. That easiness would be staying down in this depression because it’s easier than fighting. So when I would feel better and start working towards fighting again, I would re-incorporate my coping skills and that would help me get back into the grove of things.

This process would go on for a long time—I mean, hell there are 500 pieces! It got to a point where I had to go to bed and let myself breathe because I was overwhelmed again. I needed to just take a break. This was my suicide attempt; I didn’t know what to do, so I went into fight or flight. I chose flight. I need a break from reality and so the voices in my head started taking over for me and pouring pills down my throat.

Sleeping last night was like my break from reality over Christmas break: my stay in the hospital.

Then waking up this morning was like my discharge. I then cleaned my room, ate breakfast, put some new clothes on and then grabbed all my stuff to come back and finish the puzzle; or to enter real life again.

I started off really strong this morning, just blowing through the pieces, and then I would have one piece that I couldn’t find, so I would have to move on and tell myself I will find it later. This correlates to my favorite coping skill, “Fake it until you make it.” Because, it’s not technically a bad day, it didn’t keep me stuck in a rut. I saw it, and there was nothing I could do, so I moved on. Once I found the piece, I wouldn’t be faking it anymore. I would have actually made it. I wouldn’t be faking my feelings! There were multiple times this situation was repeated.

Finally I made it to the homestretch! This was the hardest part, because all of the pieces looked the same. Some pieces fit in places that were perfect for them, and then I come to realize they were in the wrong spot so I would have to go back and fix them. Some pieces just wouldn’t go anywhere I would have to play with it until they easily slid into their position.

I imagine this is what it’s going to be like when I have a stable income, house, children, and possible husband. I am going to adopt my kids, so when I was going through the pieces and trying to find their right spot… is how I imagine the adoption process to be. Then through sliding the pieces and fitting them in their correct spot, is meeting my children and bringing them home with me. When I continue to get more pieces correct in my last section is how I imagine the future to be like.

There will be easy times, and hard times. There will be times when I fake it, times when I make it. There will be speed bumps, and there will be enough strength to overcome those obstacles. There will be hurt and pain, but there will also be love. So much love. Whether it is just motherly love for my future kids, or romantic love between my future husband and I. 

SIDENOTE: I have high expectations for the man the Lord has picked for me. If He has chosen anyone at all! It has to be someone who wants the same things in life as I do; he has to have attractive personality traits. For example: I imagine him being kind, supportive, loving- so so loving, courteous, smart, brave, strong, trustworthy, honest, thoughtful, very caring, and a strong role model for me. I want to be so in love with this man that I will never want anything else. I want to have someone who treats me like their best friend, confident, partner, equal. I will give him the world, and I hope that I can find someone who is willing to do the same for me. As well as being able to handle my crazy, my slip-ups, my bad days. But is strong enough to take my hand and walk with me through them. I want someone who is so in love with me that he can never stop talking about me, and will tell the kids the best stories about us. I want to be able to tell our kids that we love each other so much, that we used that love to travel and meet our little baby; who we were going to love even more.

Okay anyways. I’m going on and on. But, I want to be able to look back on my life when I am wrinkly, slow, and on death’s door step and say, “Jules, you did it. You made it through hell and back. Your children are amazing; you raised such wonderful and inspiring kids. You gave your heart away, and you got so much more love thrown at you. You made that choice to live when you were 19, and look at where you are now. Thank you so much for choosing to live, we would have missed so much. We never would have had the chance to build this amazing life for ourselves. You truly are a warrior. Just look at how well you have done for yourself. You should be so proud, you made it. You are a success story….”

“…You finished your puzzle.”

Finish your puzzle.