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…But the world is full of zanies and fools who don’t believe in sensible rules, and won’t believe what sensible people say, and because these daft and dewy-eyed dopes keep building up impossible hopes, impossible things are happening every day.
~ Rodgers & Hammerstein II | “Impossible/It’s Possible” – Cinderella
I grew up between two parents who had mildly differing tastes in music, but the one genre they had always agreed on was Musical Theater. I was raised listening to the soundtracks of wonderful shows such as Man of la Mancha, The Music Man, and Mary Poppins, as well as a hefty amount of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s greatest hits. When I was around the age of seven or eight, the local TV station aired the 1965 made-for-TV version of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella starring Lesley Ann Warren. I was enthralled–not only with the costumes that were clearly borne from the vibrant and colorful sixties color palette–but with the songs and storyline as well. Sure, I’d seen Disney’s Cinderella, I’d even read the Brothers Grimm version of “Cinderella,” but there was something about Warren’s portrayal of the classic rags-to-riches fairy-tale princess that struck me.
I think most of us, at some point or other in our lives can identify with Cinderella’s daydreaming of being anywhere but where she actually was. As young children, we dream of the day we’re real Grown Ups. As teenagers, we wish we were somewhere away from our annoying and embarrassing parents. As adults, we pine for the days we were young and innocent without responsibilities. In a world where society thrives on us paying attention to anything but the present moment, it is a hard habit to unlearn. However, sometimes it’s in hindsight’s 20/20 vision that we see exactly how far we’ve actually come, and that the journey that seemed so very impossible from the beginning, was actually very possible all along.
A few weeks ago, I was given a reminder of how very far I’ve actually come in the last year. You see, a year ago, I was not physically in a great space. I had lost my father to cancer just five months prior, my mother was struggling with her own cancer battle, and I had lost myself to the stress and anxiety that life had handed me by utilizing unhealthy coping mechanisms that not only did nothing to actually help, but they were also poisoning my body. At this point last year, the prospect of living a normal life ever again seemed elusive and impossible.
I would love to say that I was visited by a fairy godparent that magically whisked my worries away with the wave of their wand, (and wouldn’t that be wonderfully whimsical)? Alliteration aside, the truth is much less interesting I’m afraid. I am no stranger to the demon of addiction, and so I know exactly how hard it is to believe when I say I simply made myself a promise that I would not keep abusing my body in the ways in which I was. I thought I had made that decision so many times before, so what was so different this time around? I honestly couldn’t tell you. I suppose I’d just simply had enough . . . and any recovering addict will tell you that THAT is the only thing that did it: You simply choose one day to be done.
It was an easy choice to make, just not an easy one to implement by any means. After stumbling through the holidays and early winter months, I was finally able to put down my poison of choice once and for all in March of this year–the first of three coping mechanisms that I have since shed from my dopamine-seeking habits. I’ve since taken massive strides in bettering my physical health, maintaining a firm hold on self-improvement, and am in better health than I think I’ve been in over ten years due to those specific, seemingly impossible, changes.
While I realize that I have not been addiction free for a full twelve months yet, it was actually realizing I’d made the decision a year ago that made me stop and take stock of how far I’d come, and it was a very humbling moment. I guess we sometimes need a reminder of how strong our minds truly can be.
As it turns out, those impossible hopes I had for myself really did make things possible after all. All I really needed to do was believe that they could.
Until next time–
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