You'll Figure it Out

This week has been a mix of emotions and it came out even more after I read Cassie's blog post for Caleb and it made me cry.

I have struggled this week with my drivers eval situation. Yes, I want to know, but, I don't. I can't  forget the day my OT did all that testing and the words he said after.  Normally, when a therapist tells me something might not or will not happen, I move along.  Not this therapist, Not this thing.  I remember the day. The time. The feeling in my stomach. The lump in my throat. What shirt he was wearing for crying out loud. The look on his face.  The look that said it all without his lips even moving. The way I struggled to say anything.  How bad I wanted to yell at him; tell him he was wrong.  Tell him to redo the testing.  Tell him to take the results and shove them.  Tell him to fuck off. Tell him he's my therapist, he's supposed to encourage and support, help, and accomplish. Fix things. At that moment it literally felt as though he had put my heart between his hands, and in one swift move, broken it in to tiny little fragments.  I slowly put it back together, but there is still a huge scar.  With the talk of the road test, it's opening, bit by bit and I'm scared it's going to be ripped open.  Every time someone makes a joke about me driving, I laugh, but little do they know how bad that humor stings. People keeping say to relax. I'll do fine. I'll figure it out.  Sometimes though, I wish it didn't take "figuring out". I wish it just happened like it does for others my age.  I wish I didn't need to book 500 different appointments with 500 different therapists. I wish it didn't take months, countless phone calls, emails, appeals, letters, voice mails, and faxes just to find out about some equipment.  All I'm sayin' is, it would be cool if things could be simpler sometimes is all.

Proverbs 3:5: “Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding.”


J