In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Oasis.”
A sanctuary is a place you can escape to, to catch your breath and remember who you are. Write about the place you go to when everything is a bit too much.
A few years ago my oasis would have been the woods or Lake Superior. Somewhere in nature where I could escape; rejuvenate and let go before returning back to “my real life”.
As some readers know, I went into treatment in February 2013 for alcoholism and bi-polar. My home and room had never been an “Oasis”; it was a place of chaos with a bed of shame. A place where I drank too much in “secret” and passed out; where I whirled around like the Tasmanian Devil then succumbed to a paralyzing depression.
Today my bedroom is my Oasis. I cannot take credit for the bedding, curtains or other furnishings. My care provider decorated the room, providing an inner-child sanctuary. The PEZ, books and “stuff” are mine. It’s my 14-year-old girl’s room I never had. If it had Cory Hart posters on the wall, it would be a time capsule. Except even at 14 my life was chaos. Alcoholic mother, alcoholic & abusive brother, loving but often absent father; I raised myself, resulting in a chaotic adult.
At 41, I gave in and accepted help. I thought I “got it” in 2010, but really was still “raising” myself poorly; putting other suffering people’s needs first, caregiving without yet being whole. I had to give up my independence in order to find sanctuary.
This room is in a home where my needs are met. This room is an introverts dream. In the last week it’s literally been a place of recovery. I had a bad car accident and this refuge is where I am recuperating. In Minnesota, it’s well below zero but I have a heated mattress pad that not only keeps me warm, but helps with my aches and pains from injury.
I will have to leave this oasis in a couple months. I’ve been able to save money, shown myself to be a responsible adult, and am well enough to leave sanctuary, with hopes that it will serve another as well as it has saved me.