Getting used to Happy

For those used to writing about the weight of depression, happiness seems hard to define as something solid.

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A good day

And then, you have one of those days where, peace is

everything.

It’s small and quiet and unobtrusive but it’s powerful. Taking up the spaces that are usually raging, and the cracks that are empty and crumbling. It’s not even silence, more a peach wash of warmth. Faintly glowing in the background of a good day.

If you didn’t do anything this summer…

You worked? Then, you’ve managed to save. Oh, you haven’t managed to save (me neither mate. I live in Oxford and the rent kills me). That’s fine though, you worked. Sharpening skills, or realizing you’re ready to move on, or challenging yourself, or whatever work does for you.

Or, you stayed at home because being outside, having a job, is too much right now. Well that’s okay too, you’re knowing your limits and you’re using this time to work on yourself, to heal. You’ll go out when you’re ready. Not all explorations are mountains and road-trips.