It’s easy, for me at least, when I’m in it with depression to believe that nothing is ever going to go right again and I may as well just adopt 10 more cats and give up now. I am Chicken Little, the sky falling, and there’s nothing anyone can do ever.
On the flip side when things are going well I’m usually waiting for the other shoe to drop. I tend to spend a lot of time looking for the cracks and flaws and possible ways things can fall to shit again. Which means that I’m not spending a whole hell of a lot of time, you know, just enjoying things.
It’s only been a week on the new meds, but already I can tell a difference. Or maybe it’s just the promise of a difference. Either way there’s hope. I’ve had a string of pretty fantastic days made that way if only by the people in them and me actively trying to just stop my brain from spinning and enjoy. I spent today at Casey’s snuggling her girls, getting my ass kicked by Mr. Prickle Pants on the Kinect, and just being. Currently she’s sitting next to me while we both work. We haven’t said a word in probably twenty minutes. There was nothing amazing or particularly exciting about today, but it was perfect.
I’m learning, little by little, to just let go and enjoy. With maybe a little side-eye looking out for that bit of falling sky.