The word “genesis” can vary slightly in meaning and usage; however, its most commonly used to denote a specific thing’s origin or beginning. So for me, on the cusp of my 30th birthday, acknowledging and dealing with what, looking back, felt like such a heavy burden of unintended self-destruction and hopeful “repair”…to be invited to a place specifically called “Genesis House” sounded at once, both intriguing and frightening. Having little information pertaining to what exactly this place was or it’s exact function, not knowing what being a member of a “clubhouse” actually meant and not to mention the foreboding social implications of joining such a place, I found myself agonizing for weeks just to take my first steps into “Genesis House” for a tour. It seemed the more I blindly wondered at the potential benefits of the clubhouse, the more I questioned myself and my will to try again.
The longer I waited, and more aptly, avoided stepping foot into the modest, gray, two-storied building in tiny Fowlerville, MI, the more deluded and anxious my thoughts became. But…I knew that I needed more than just an occasional visit to a therapist. I knew that I needed more than the benefits medication could provide. And what’s more, I knew that I had disappeared into myself for months and with each passing day the more removed from being what I used to call “on track” I became. When I could finally no longer justify my hiding, with support from a peer, I conjured up enough gumption to step out and just…try. Finally pulling up to that modest, gray, two-storied building in tiny Fowlerville, I remembered that the origins, or genesis, of many great things start from modest and humble beginnings. And that’s exactly how I took my first steps into “Genesis House”.