Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Getting real

Yesterday, all day, I believed it was Tuesday.

Maybe I just wanted it to be. Maybe I was so sick of Monday that I tried to fast forward.

This winter has been a particularly brutal one.

Brutal on my health, my head, my emotions, my productivity, my inspiration, my surroundings.

I have been sick on and off since the beginning of December with one thing or another. I spent New Year's in a hospital, instead of the masquerade ball I was so excited to attend. I received a diagnosis I wasn't exactly thrilled with, one that will plague me forever. The uncertainty of the future has me in a slight panic.

The January days have been bleak, and left me with a dull sense of dread in my gut that I couldn't seem to shake.

Yesterday and Sunday were particularly brutal. It was like I would never be carefree again, not even for a moment.

I wanted a breakthrough. I wanted spring. I wanted a thunderstorm; that light, that energy.

I read something from Jane Pratt of xojane a couple months ago in Glamour magazine. I have, however, lost the article...just like my phone charger and my sanity...

But anyway, it said something along the lines of how we should not wait to crawl out from a dark place before we write about it. We should chart it, keep note of our progress, and if nothing else, prove that we're human.

Guilty as charged. I rarely write about the down days. I am not a wallower. If I am not happy with my life, I go into action mode. I never let myself sink into the depths; I research and plan and try to fix it.

But I have come to recognize that those moments of feeling anxious or depressed or completely and utterly drained have a purpose. They force you to stop and stew. They form a solid rock bottom to give you stability before you take off again.

This morning, I woke up to the sound of thunder. It will linger all day. It shook the windows and roiled through the early morning sky.

I immediately went outside. (I had to get something from my car, but I also wanted to feel the gorgeous mid-60s air and light rain on my skin.)
It reminded me of a day I remember vividly from third grade. I rushed out to the backyard one spring day before school and watched the thunderheads roll in. And something in me felt so alive. That feeling comes rushing back anytime I wake up to a morning thunderstorm.

Today I get my thunderstorm and my taste of spring.

And today, for the first time in weeks, I woke up and nothing hurt.

(A song for the day, mostly because it has been stuck in my head:)

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