I remember discovering the Choose Your Own Adventure books in
my Uncle Rob’s apartment — right next to the Lord of the Rings trilogy. I read
every Choose Your Own Adventure book that he had. And with methodical procession
I would read every possibility that the book allowed. I proceeded to check all
of the Choose Your Own Adventure books out of the library. At 10, I felt like
quite a bad ass for transitioning from the Baby Sitters Club series to this
adventure literature that even boys read.
As a grownup I’ve realized that life is nothing more than a
Choose Your Own Adventure book. I’ve flipped to the wrong page plenty of times,
but that’s never stopped me from going back and choosing the path I want.
I think that’s a big, big part of mental health recovery. We
are choosing our own adventure and even when we don’t get it right the first time
there are always chances to flip back a few pages and choose the path you want.
This summer I traveled to Colorado to visit some family and
friends and see a concert at Red Rocks Amphitheater. I saw a concert at Red
Rocks a few years ago, but it wasn’t the experience I had hoped for. I spun
that night into an inspirational blog about rock climbing because that’s what I do and at the time
that seemed like all I knew how to do.
These are the words I wrote back in 2013:
The
secret to successful bipolar treatment is to always, always envision your next
move. See yourself at the top of that rock. Name that rock. Because the
stability you’ll experience at the top is yours and you should own it.
I wrote those words during what was a privately dark time in
my life, but they remain true. A lot has changed since 2013, but I’m naming my
rock. I’m still climbing with avengenance. And now I know that I don’t just own
the rock that I’m climbing — I own my whole story. And let me tell you this
adventure is going to have a fabulous ending.
I redid my Red Rocks experience in August. I had some
friends tag along to see Yonder Mountain String Band because my friends are
awesome and always seem to be up for anything. My friends left during
intermission of the headliner. (People who don’t normally attend jam band
concerts don’t realize they are six hour ordeals.)
I decided to stay and made my way toward the front. Before I knew it, I began dancing like no one
was watching. I felt free. I realized that after years of living a fragmented
life trying to spin things into an appropriate message, I finally felt whole. I
finally felt like there was no need to spin. I could just be me among the
mountains.
Today, I still feel whole. I am choosing my own adventure. I
am owning the story. And I am writing the ending.
