This post is dedicated to this dude right here.
Some days I don’t even understand how I got a human with a soul so deep and vast. To be honest, I didn’t think it existed.
This human is my balance and the calibration for my moral compass.
When I think I’m being nice, he lets me know I could have more compassion.
He never scoffs at my ideas, or gets irritated if one day I claim vegetarian and the next day I’m eating a burger.
He challenges me at my core, but still encourages me to stay true to me. And the days I don’t even know who I am, he helps me find my way back.
I am grateful to the universe in all it’s mysterious complexity where a soul like ours could collide.
It’s incredible how much love you can have for animals (for me it is dogs in particular) when their language is expressed mainly in body language that you have had to learn through attention and time.
Even more incredible is that you know they love you too. As they sleep next to me, and press both their paws into my side (doesn’t always feel pleasant) I feel their contentment and trust. I’m honored that of all the people, they picked me.
Nature has its way of clearing stagnant energy I carry around, emerging clear and reconfigured. What I hold in my heart, so often heavy and sharp, is lightened and dulled…sometimes even made smaller, by the rich colors and earthy smells.
The people in my life all have either brought something in or have taken something…& if I were to take a bird’s eye view of it, might see it was an equal giving and taking, cyclical much like nature…however I’m too deep in the woods and the taking seems to acquire more attention.
Being off of my medication has caused this influx of emotion…& the stinging words and actions of others cause such a painful reaction that I have retreated into this shell of protection. Familiar to me from before I started my zombie-like state of existence. However my shell is boring on the outside on purpose…no one likes boring. In fact they leave it alone…and for someone with a mental health illness, sometimes being left alone is as necessary as it is painful. We don’t want to be lonely, but loneliness keeps you from getting hurt from others at a time when you don’t have the energy or strength to process it.
Getting older is kind of awesome in a way. Things take a different shape, and I hold value in gentleness. Being here at 32 is eye-opening. So far into being an adult that mistakes are less-forgivable, mainly to myself.
The vincibility of life, and the shortness of it helps to rid myself mentally of things that really have no stake in life at the end. That being said, I still really like shoes.
These thoughts, now written have made some room so I can let the interrupted sleep take over once more…..
When it comes to depression, it’s typically the same manifestations: No energy, the desire to do nothing but sleep, and trying to tear myself away from the world.
Anxiety, however, presents itself within so many characters. One in particular is my fear of happiness.
What I mean is, I’m not afraid to be happy. I’m fearful that if I am happy, something bad HAS to happen, simply because nothing can be perfect.
I have a very good life now, and I recently thought to myself, “I have nothing to complain about…” and immediately after I started to feel that fuzziness, the static in my chest. The feeling that something bad is about to happen and the darkness that makes you so sure.
This particular anxiety, that something has to be wrong for all to be okay, has existed since I was a teenager. My parent’s divorce, followed by a tumultuous relationship with my mother and father, set into motion what will become a pattern of expecting things to be broken.
I hope it is something that in time will dissipate but meanwhile I will be consistently trying to tell myself it’s okay to be happy.
It’s okay to be happy.