Genny and I got quite a bit done today. We returned some things, went to Starbucks, dropped off the van for inspection and all the other usual suspects. I was able to keep plugging along all day even when I was feeling on the verge of getting depressed with Genny. I think I was doing in spite of my feelings. I chugged through my depression.
Gen even took two decent naps today. I snuck one in myself this morning. We had a decent dinner and the dishes have already been washed. It’s only 8:30 and Nick and I have already spent some quality time together. He’s just run out to rent us a video. I can’t remember the last time we did that.
As I’m writing about all these good things, there’s a voice in the back of my skull beckoning me, whispering to me, twitching it’s little finger at me. This voice is creepy and scraggly and it wants me to remember all the things I have to be anxious about. It’s trying to remind me that I am not adequate. It’s seeping, oozing the message that I’ll be collapsing into its comfortable teeth any moment now.
I feel like if I keep writing about it in this manner that it won’t be able to get me. I feel as if I’ve actually separated myself from it for the first time in a long while. I want to feel giddy. In fact, I’m on the verge of it, but there’s a corner of myself saying don’t give in to the bliss because if I do, then I’ll be sucked up by the raspy creature. To give in to the bliss is the equivalent to opening myself to the monsters that lie beneath the bliss.
But I feel like that’s just another trick of the depression monster to keep me from dropping into bliss. Damn it, I will be happy now. I will allow myself to enjoy this feeling of being enough. I am not a fraud. I am authentic. I am real. I am a good person.
I am riding this camel out of the desert. I’m riding this baby to the Promised Land I see in the distance. That’s it. I’m riding there now.