For those used to writing about the weight of depression, happiness seems hard to define as something solid.
Recently, it’s been very apparent that I am stressed.
I mean, I think I am stressed quite a lot of the time actually. There’s always something a little out of the ordinary happening in my life and it’s now at the point where these out of the ordinary things have become quite ordinary.
But when I’m on the wall, when I’m working out the next move, trying not to fall, thinking about placing my feet, my mind is free of everything else. I’m not freaking out about rejection, stressing out about my workload – none of it. It’s bliss. It really is.
Limits. Anybody else measure their limits completely and utterly wrong sometimes? Maybe this will help in deciding whether it’s worth one more hour, or whether it’s time for a break.
Why share? Why? Why type your life out and click a button, waiting for people to read? I don’t know. But I know that when I do write, the fog lifts a little.
When you’re in a good space it’s important to enjoy it. You don’t want to be thinking about “when am I gonna next feel like the worst” all of the time. But, but but but… it is important to utilise some of your productive clarity time to help out future-not-okay-you.
I just wanted to check in with you all, and let you know I’m still here, and yes, I’m a little depressed but I’m fully functioning and not in any danger of disappearing anytime soon.