2010 is moving faster than the speed of light, unfortunately, I move more at tortoise speed so I’m feeling a little left behind lately. Don’t get me wrong, this year has been better for me than the last couple for a few reasons, and with a few exceptions. I’ve been taking some time out for ME, trying to be more mindful of my actions and reactions and I can notice a marketed difference between my abilities to cope, and my WANT to interact with life again. I can admit to having been under a rock for about 8 months or so, but it’s probably been significantly longer than I even realize. Life stopped being measured in the moments that took my breath away and started being measured in the minutes between when I was awake and when I could drown my misery in my pillow. Every time was bedtime and I struggled to claw my way out of bed in the mornings. I managed to convince myself that I wasn’t the one changing, everyone else was and I fell into such a deep depression that I think I actually forgot how to LIVE.
With a few years of therapy under my belt, some good friends, a truly understanding boyfriend and some good (legal) drugs, I’m finally starting to feel like someone who has hopes and wants and isn’t so absorbed with the past and the negatives in life that I can actually begin to wake the hell up and go outside. I’ve spent more glorious time in my backyard and gardens this spring than I have in the last 3 and the influx of Vitamin D must have some sort of unknown benefit because I’m finally able to enjoy sunlight without my agoraphobia kicking in, I’m not as ashamed to be seen in public wearing shorts and I’m doing anything and everything that I can to stifle my control-freakness, which, by the way, is excruciatingly difficult to repress. After all, I’m not telling you how to do something, I’m just telling you a BETTER way to do it. A way that doesn’t leave a drip of paint running down the walls, or a rust stain in the new bone colored sink… I’m not being controlling, I’m being helpful. Right? Don’t you know think so? Seriously, DON’T YOU?
In one of my recent therapy sessions, my therapist suggested that I start blogging again, as in the past it’s been very cathartic for me, but as I sit here now, I feel out of sorts. My fingers want to type their freshly painted polish off, but my mind doesn’t have anything impressive to say. I feel like I’ve lost my writing skillz, and I am slightly dismayed by the difficulty I’m experiencing as I struggle to complete this post. I guess I wanted to have fallen right back into blogging as if it were a brand new bike that’s been sitting in my basement, just waiting for me to jump on it and pedal my ass off, while it does all the work propelling me forward. But alas, my thoughts don’t roll as easily as a bike tire, and instead, I’m left making tired, and strange, analogies that may not even make sense to me in the morning…
Afterall, my tomorrow begins in less than 7 hours.