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I was thinking last night about how far I feel I've come this year in dealing with the series of tragedies befallen me (
namely, Break-Up #1, Break-Up #2, and then the whole M debacle). Slowly but surely I'm feeling more like myself. Am I 100% better? No. Not by a long shot. But, I can get out of bed in the morning. I no longer relate all-too-well to those Cymbalta commercials on TV which discuss the signs of depression. I can say AFMF's name without crying. I can function. Sure, my house is a mess, I still cry at least once a day, and I can't shake the feeling that a light has gone out inside of me. But, I'm alive; I'm trying; I'm pressing on. Most importantly, I'm doing the best I can. I'm not perfect, I can't snap my fingers and make everything go away. But, I'm so much better than I was. That's got to count for something, right?
1 comment:
That's awesome! Happy you're feeling better about things.
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