Some Days…

The past few days have been a little emotional for me.  Okay… so they have been a lot emotional for me.  I still have days when I am tempted to just pull the bed covers over my head, and sleep the rest of my life away.  There are still days when I feel unbearably sad and vulnerable.  Lost and alone.  Or just plain tired.  I’ve been having more of those days lately.  It worries me some, because I haven’t had days like these for 3 years now.  Seven years ago, I had days like these every day.  That time of my life I have titled, The Dark Ages.  This was my pre-diagnosis, pre-counseling, and pre-Zoloft days. When time was just one big blur, and I was frozen inside.

It’s hard for me to write about this.  I worry what you will think of me, that I will bore you to tears with this “sob story.”  But writing is therapeutic.  Sometimes when I can’t even figure out for myself what I am feeling, writing has a way of bringing out what I can’t verbalize.  I think that is why I have always loved to write.  It’s my way of offering up pieces of myself without the fear of rejection, or even worse, pity.

I’m not always like this.  Some days spread out before me like a ray of sunshine.  Filled with wonder, excitement, and joy.  But, joy is not something I experience on a regular basis.  At least not how I envision joy to be.  You know.  That surge of pure happiness, floating on a cloud, jumping up and down, singing and dancing with abandon, laughing out loud, and not giving a damn what anybody else thinks about it.  Looking at myself, inside and out, flaws and all, and liking who I am.  Loving myself.  For me.  Michelle Notwithstanding.  That kind of joy.  I don’t think that’s too much to ask.  Do you?