This story begins where Rogers ends. Once my treatment ended, I very quickly realized that I was not yet healed (shocker), but was also having an incredibly hard time adjusting to day to day life. While I’m grateful for having done it, it kinda felt like the program didn’t do very much this time around just because of how much life kicked me in the ass, and insurance kicked me out of it just as suicidal as when I had first come in. So I was done.. still pretty high up on the suicide scale.. and I’m realizing I need to do something else before I end up six feet under.. which would be completely fine by me, but I promised my dad. Fucker.
For days, I rack my brain, and Google, and the only solution I come up with is to go to a residential facility – where I’d live for a month or so or until insurance decided (again) that I was doing well enough. It’s something I contemplated while at Rogers, but the idea freaked me the fuck out, so I didn’t pursue it. I reached out to a few places, but none felt right. I actually heard back from the place that Demi went to the first time around, but those fuckers gave me such a shitty vibe that I wouldn’t have gone there for free.
I heard back from a place in Tennessee that sounded glorious – gorgeous lodge at the tip of the Smoky Mountains – therapeutic in and of itself, right? I should add that they also have a Florida location, and I picked the mountains. That should tell you how skewed my mind is right now. Anyways. It sounded great.. until she gave me the numbers. They needed $4K up front, assuming insurance covered everything from that point on. Again, until they decide that “I’m fine.” Also, since I’d just used up my paid time off at work to do Rogers for over two months, any time that I took off for residential would be unpaid. That’s not plausible. Not to mention, I feel like the support I had for residential was nonexistent. I was having an incredibly hard time deciding on what to do, and while a few people said I should do whatever it takes, most of those closest to me were clearly anti the idea – for various reasons.
At the end of the day, for my own reasoning, I decided not to go. However, something about that whole mountain thing intrigued me. I’ve really only ever done beach vacations, and I’ve also always admired those who can vacation alone. So that night (Me? Impulsive? Never.), I booked myself a week in those Smoky Mountains. I’m super fucking excited to have a week to myself, for myself. My lazy ass is gonna LOVE the long drives I’ve been missing, gonna go hiking, sit out on the balcony and look out into the woods for bears (from a distance), read by the fireplace, teach myself to sip red wine like a classy bitch instead of the vodka chugging one that I am, and journal my experience via blog.
Gatlinburg – see ya in a few days! Stay tuned 🙂