All good things are worth waiting for
Sunday, 30 March 2025
It’s Friday, 21 March 2025, 4:20 p.m. The door of our plane opens at Cologne/Bonn Airport, a sweet, fresh, warm wind blows into the cabin. I can’t help but smile. Have I ever had such positive feelings when inhaling this native air in the past? I don’t know, I can’t remember. The sun is shining and it is significantly warmer than in southern Portugal, which I have just left. My mood is lifting. This smile feels strangely unnatural, but it stays with me all day long.
Nobody picks me up. I have all the time in the world to collect my luggage and myself again. I stroll through the airport, waiting for a suburban train that will take me comfortably to the Shire, my tranquil new home. It is warm, green and very quiet. I am relaxed. Just one day later, I am taking one of our little Saturday hikes with my partner, two valleys and hills further. We are out in the Auerwald for half a day, and I enjoy the sun, warmth, trees, flowers, birdsong and storm-free winds here. There is no better way to arrive.
The first week went by in a flash, and it still feels to me as if I’m not really here or as if only two days have passed since I got back. A lot of things feel new and unfamiliar, even though they are actually very familiar. Once again, I am amazed that the same things in life can have so many different faces as soon as I change my perspective.
To date, I have not regretted for a single second that I have (temporarily) returned from my hike along the Atlantic. The weather situation in Portugal and Spain has been dramatic in recent weeks. Anyone who has followed the news, like me, has learned that there have been many accidents and even deaths, especially off the Atlantic coast, due to the storms. For these reasons alone, it was absolutely right to stop the hike for the time being and to hike in the Rhein-Sieg district or in the Westerwald instead.
My living situation in Windeck is perfect for this. The feeling of being able to slip into familiar routines here is very restful. Conversations with my partner, cooking together, jogging in the morning, going for walks in the evening, sauna on Fridays, hiking on Saturdays. A purring cat by the fireplace, everything is almost too nice and calming. I thank heaven and earth for this home.
Long-term Goals
Some of my companions wonder why I want to go through this diagnostic process at all. They don’t understand my desire for clarification and help, not the goal of my aspirations. I have already been to my first doctor’s appointments and filled out registration forms for AD(H)S – (and other neurodiversity) diagnostic procedures. What interests me most here is who in my environment has managed to get a diagnostic procedure or a corresponding therapy place, and when, where and how. Of course, it has not escaped my notice that the demand for such places in our society is not covered by the existing contact points and practices and that it could be difficult to get an opportunity, especially in a timely manner. But to be honest, I don’t really find most things easy in life. What does this fact change about not trying anyway?
For days on end, I experience continuous loops on mailboxes, registration procedures that don’t work, waiting lists and waiting lists for waiting lists. After two days, I wonder a little why this is so and whether it really has to be this way, but I quickly dismiss thoughts in this direction. Many times in my life, those around me have told me that something that was important to me was overrun or impossible to get. And just as often, I still found a way. So I try not to dwell on what doesn’t work, but to listen to what does. This week, I was able to introduce myself and register at three large joint practices for psychotherapy and AD(H)S diagnostic procedures in the Cologne/Bonn area.
In the long term, I would like less stress in my daily life, calmer sleep phases, therapeutic support and healthy ways to maintain my social and professional life situations for more than 18 months, to be able to finish things. The adventure begins.
As long as I can…
For almost a year now, my partner and I haven’t had a car here in the countryside, which has cost me a few nerves. We borrowed a car from time to time and kept oscillating between the desire to live in an environmentally conscious way and not to waste unnecessary resources, the frequent use of the Deutschland-Ticket, regular hiking trips with backpacks and, on the other hand, often despairing of being able to live in the countryside without a car. Without a car, spontaneity is impossible here. And now the time has come. After months of planning, ordering and realisation: Next week Cherry, our first new car together, will come home. A Fiat 500e, cherry red, with a third door as a custom-made model. I’m looking forward to more freedom and flexibility.
Maybe as soon as I know how the path to an AD(H)S diagnosis and appropriate psychotherapy will go for me, I’ll resume my long-distance hike. I’ll head back to the Atlantic Ocean and pick up where I left off. But until then, I’ll just hike as often and as much as I can. It helps me a lot to keep my feet on the ground and keep my thoughts from going crazy. My surroundings couldn’t be better for this pastime either. The Rhein-Sieg district and the Westerwald forest are right on my doorstep, but the Sauerland region with its beautiful low mountain range is also just a 20-minute drive away. This makes waiting for a diagnosis and a therapy slot a little easier for me.
I thank you and all the people who have listened to me over the past week and offered encouragement and tips. I am touched and irritated by how different the reactions to my posts have been over the past two weeks. To everyone of you: thank you from the bottom of my heart.
I hope you continue to follow my adventure of life with me here and I wish you a good start to the week!
Stay strong and feel a warm hug!
See you in a moment,
Ellen