This is one in an occasional series of reposts from my Instagram #Instastory365 project that I'm trying out this year. This one is from January 7, the day I got my first bill for health insurance in the mail after close to two years of no coverage. I had applied before the December 23 deadline, not believing at all that a simple application would result in health care coverage. I just pressed "send" and hoped for the best.
Just the phrase "coverage period" made no sense to my eyes. I had to read it several times before I believed it. I still do, from time to time. I'm very grateful.
I could go into detail about what today's mail meant to me, but I really don't think it would translate. Relieved is too small, grateful is fine all the time, but still not quite enough.
Every day now is a revelation of how bad things were in this one life before they started to get better. There's something to be said for feeling a part of life again. I can afford this insurance plan that was effective on January 1. I can take care of myself again, maybe better, and I can't adequately explain the relief. I can make decisions about my work with one huge, fear-based issue mostly off the table. I can accept that there are flaws in this, that my experience is my own alone, and for now, just feel good that I can breathe about something that yes, I can afford.
You can think you do, but you just never know what will happen to you in life, what you can lose, and what you will need. I take nothing for granted anymore. My perspective is completely different than it used to be, and anyway, I cried when I opened my mail tonight, is the thing.