BPD, Mental health, Personal, Recovery, The Now - Healing

Today I joined the library

Again. I had entirely forgotten that I had previously joined the library. I must have done so when I first moved here. It is quite possible as I moved here thinking I would work part time for myself, become an active member of the local community, have time for my creative pursuits. I think I may have joined things. Then as it often does, work became a seven-day job it was made clear by one person that there wasn’t really room for me to be a part of the community, and a lot of other stuff happened that hurt me.

I have had a note in my diary for a few weeks now. “Join library.” So today I pulled up outside the local library, wrestled the confusing door, felt increasingly self-conscious and after what seemed but probably wasn’t an interminably long time, approached the desk and asked what I needed to join. Proof of address. Easy. Except that I had left my bag in the car inside a bag of bags.

My next hurdle was of course that I had not brought my reading glasses so filling out a form was looking unlikely. The librarian, however, was kind and offered me the use of her glasses.

Once the form was filled, I wandered off to see what treasures I could find. Without glasses.

Squinting away at the shelves of a small country library, I quickly ascertained they would not have the type of reading material that I was after but I knew they could order in.

Upon returning to the desk, the librarian looked at me and told me there was a problem with my application. Apparently, I was already a member. I felt rather foolish as I had no memory of joining and didn’t have a card, but we sorted things out ok.

Then the good thing happened.

I got to smile.

I got to have hope.

There were suddenly options in front of me. Not just options for books, but opportunities for a new life. Safe options. Quiet options.

Possibilities. A hint of a future.

My choice of reading material was not popular, so wasn’t held on site. But it made the librarian smile, and the hunt was on. She now had a reason to order in books that she would like to read.

She told me about a group of like-minded people, and that I was welcome to join. She gave me the contact details of the convenor and told me how very nice it was to meet me.

By joining the library (again) by mistake, I have perhaps, possibly, maybe found another piece of the puzzle that is me. And that piece, is or seems to be or has the potential to be acceptable or something heading in the general direction of acceptableness.

The choice is mine. Can I do this? Do I have the courage?

Will Fate, at last, tempt me in a healthy and positive direction?

We shall see. I made a start. I joined the library.

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