I have made a decision.
This is it.
I'm not going to spend any more time right now trying to fix my foot. I'm going through with the orthotics and the new shoes. But after that, no matter the outcome, I am done.
I know that there is another surgery pending. That it may make all the difference in the world.
However, there are so many "if's" tied to this surgery that, right now, it's just not worth it for me. I need to get away from this place I've been in. And I'm not just talking about this town. I'm talking about the mental/emotional state I've been in for the last couple of months. I've been fighting this battle against this depression almost since the day I realized I was coming back home.
Some days I won. Other days...I didn't even show up to fight.
Before the appointment at Mayo, I was contemplating starting a business here at home. My dad was willing to financially back the venture, and I had already done a lot of preliminary work on the business plan. It was never something I had planned on doing at this point in my life, but if it turned out that I needed to stay here for another extended period of time, I knew I needed something to do.
Something unbelievably time consuming.
I was so reluctant to start doing actual planning and work on it, though. It felt like I was giving up every single dream I had for my life right now and resigning myself to an 70 hr work week and an exhuasted, lonely life in a place I didn't want to be.
It was so much about location in my mind. If you gave me the option to open the exact same business in a completely different state, it would have appealed to me 100 times more. There was no adventure in doing this next door to where I'd lived over half my life.
And honestly, I'm not sure I would have been physically able to do the job.
It just wasn't a very practical idea. But I was holding onto it for dear life about a month ago because that's all I had to hold on to.
So much of the last couple of months have been about me realizing that I am not going to be able to live the life I was preparing myself to live. And I needed to do that. I needed to let go of those expectations. But somewhere along the line, while I was trying to accept this new reality for my life, I began trying to make myself believe that meant I was going to have to live a life I didn't want to live. That I was going to have to resign myself to these new limitations I had. That my wanderlust was going to die and I was going to be stuck at a desk job forever.
But this isn't about giving up. This is about adapting.
About working with what you've got.
So I have a little problem...I'm not going to be able to climb mountains every week, or ever wear heels again, or even be able to walk around the mall without dealing with pain. So what?! That doesn't mean I have to give up on what it is I want to do with my life.
I'm going to go to Italy. I'm going to find a job where I can work outside. I'm going to continue to travel and dream and do all those things that are on my list. I am going to find a job where I can wear jeans every single day of the week if I want to. Sure...I may be moving a little slower down the Camino de Santiago than your average pilgrim, but I am still going to do it.
I've applied for jobs all over the place in the last week since I made this revelation. My foot is going to be a problem no matter where I live. It can hurt just as much in Montana as it can in Tennessee, so why stick around?
My new "special kid" shoes arrive next week. They have to be tweaked and fitted and all that good stuff.
But after that...I'm outta here.
I mean..I'm going to stick around for Christmas and all that good stuff.
But after THAT...I'm outta here. :)