Last Stop

Tonight is my last night at the last hostel I’m staying at on this journey.

Bon Paul and Sharky’s Hostel in Asheville, North Carolina

While I was having a pint of cider at the taproom next door to my hostel, two words surfaced, uncoaxed, from my thoughts: “I’m OK.” 

You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear myself say that. The word “OK” has always been significant to me. In the midst of deep internal trouble I would say over and over to myself, “I just want to be Ok.” Today I felt like I was. Perhaps, I’ve felt like it for a while now, but the words just now materialized in my mind, a place constantly ravaged with negativity.

Thinking about the last year and two months,  a few minutes later – again, uncoaxed – I said to myself,  “I did well.” Surprising myself again with positive affirmation, I started to get all emotional in the taproom, clasping my glass, hearing partiers at my back and starring out into the dark street.

I’m not cured. I’m not foolish enough to think that. But I got a taste of wellness because I took a journey that was hard but good. And now I know better what to aim for.


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