These days, I have come to expect there are going to be rough times. I would say they are fewer and farther between than in the past. I try to remember that on a bad day. My lack of writing lately is directly related to my current state of mind. See, I am an introvert mostly but I choose to let some things loose when need be. I have learned over the years, despite my former angst and disregard, to appreciate..really appreciate the things and people around me. The things I tend to easily take for granted at times. It’s sort of crazy how lucky I really am, all things considered.

It seems I’m rather forgetful at certain times. I’ve gone back and forth in my head whether there is something wrong. A chemical “inbalance” as they would call it, “they” being the medical industry. Some people don’t believe in such things. I’m not sure where I stand on it really. After all, nothing is perfect, including people, and seeing as I’m one of them, perhaps it’s expected to lose myself between the cracks of this little life from time to time. There are days I can cry so long, it’s physically and mentally exhausting trying to keep up with whatever reasons might be behind it. There are other days I can’t even remember the feeling of unwelcomed tears. All my logic tells me these things must happen for a reason, yet I can’t seem to ever find one in the midst of what sometimes feels like a breakdown. This leads to questions. Uncertainty. Comparison. I often point the finger toward myself. I become some evil critic and eventually break myself down to the point I no longer have to wonder why I’m crying. I’ve created reasons to replace the unanswered questions. I compare myself to others. There are countless “if only” scenerios. If only I were skinnier, prettier. If only my teeth were straight. If only I had more money. If only I was interesting. If only I were..someone else. If only I could stop with this and carry on like a normal person. If only. I make it physical. I make it personal. I make it hurt. Recovering from this self-inflicted bullying is getting more difficult. But that logic of mine just won’t stand for an unreasonable meltdown. So what’s a gal to do? Seems to be an ever present question.

I decided to write today to remind myself of the things I forget on a metaphorically cloudy day. These things are facts, if nothing else. And who am I to disprove the truth? Especially if I’m the one proclaiming it. The truth of the matter is I’ve got it pretty good. Right down to the basics, which is a roof over my head, a job that pays the bills, great people to live with, food to keep me full. Those things alone would make me appear quite spoiled to other less fortunate individuals. On top of that, I’ve got relatively good health, especially considering the things I have put my body through in the past. I’ve been lucky enough to find someone I truly love and who loves me equally in return. I have a family who I amitedlly do not give enough credit to, despite the fact I’ve learned so much from all of them. I have friends who are always there when I really need them. I have a warm bed to sleep in at night and I get to sleep and spend most of my free time with my favorite person on the planet. I am more talented than I show or often realize. I can sing quite well if I put my mind to it. I’ve drawn things, created, and written things I didn’t know I was capable of. I’ve been told I’m witty and rather funny. There are days I’ve looked in the mirror and felt beautiful. I have all my limbs, and all my organs fully in tact. I am happier than I’ve ever been. So what more can a gal ask for? That it seems, should be the ever present question.