Have you ever felt so not like yourself for so long and then one day, inexplicably, you're back? I think this might have happened to me at some point in my existence, but the feeling of being in the constant shadow of a rain cloud has never lasted as long as it has these past few months. Then I woke up one day and it was just over. I'm was out of my funk. I don't know what caused or cured it 100%, but for the moment I recognize the woman writing this and it's heady. I've been meaning to write an entry for awhile, and I wasn't intentionally waiting to be back to my desired level of me-ness (because I wasn't sure if I ever would be, for starters), but it just worked out that way. I guess it's fitting that the re-emergence coincides with Valentine's Day, too, because effusive love is historically my brand.
What have I been up to? Not much. Reading lots. Yoga as much as I can. Compulsive music listening. Recovering from viruses and caring for my virus-stricken kid. Recovering from running injuries. Working on my novel. Working on work. Travel and family time. Surviving, mostly. Getting by interspersed with some genuine moments of joy and purpose. Living an average life, in other words, but a life that, at its essence, wasn't familiar to me.
When you don't feel good, all you want to do is feel good, but it's impossible to imagine what feeling good or even normal feels like. Then when you're better, you take that baseline happiness for granted. My instinct is to try not to do that now, to instead focus on deliberately appreciating taking pleasure in getting dressed up or dancing around the house or being silly with my kid like I did before as second nature because it can peace out at any moment. It occurs to me, though, that creamy center of living the life you know you can is to live it with abandon. So, until further notice, I'm me on 11 and I WILL take it for granted, thank you very much.
It's great to be back, here, and here.
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