Enough is enough. You see, I had decided that the most painful and frustrating part of going around being a sad-hag is because basically I am not a “wah-wah-wah, doom and gloom” kind of girl. It’s just not my nature. I like butterflies and rainbows and clouds and drawings of honeybees. I love Jesus.
I like being ridiculous. I like to eat peanut butter and pickles.
All you need is Love. Peace.
So I was going around like….what is wrong with me. Where is my “me”-ness?Sheesh.
So I developed the brilliant plan to just “give in” to the depression rather than trying to fight it.
I scripted a new inner-monologue.
“I’m not okay and I’m okay with that ”…. “I have run out of pretend”….I like to just sleep all the time and numb myself out in my apartment. That’s my “happy place.”
Problem is, I’d be feeling like a cruddy, dirty, grey slug and then all of the sudden I find myself making little jokes with my neighbor and smiling or thinking happy thoughts or something. This is really incongruous with what is going on in my life, but I can’t help it. It is not fake. It’s me.
I am sad happy girl. Or happy sad girl. Is there a word for a happy sort of sad or a sad sort of happiness? Not ambivalence….
Maybe I am like the sunshine peaking out of a cloud. Or — my favorite time of day -twilight- when the world gets really glow-y and everything is oddly illuminated. It is pretty rare and when it happens it feels like magic.
See what I mean? I am the girl who goes outside and says “Yay! It’s twilight…it’s like magic!” and yes, when there is a rainbow in the sky I want to let everyone in my vicinity know about it (for instance – a complete stranger in the parking lot).
But I’m also a big, fatty-fat pants failure who can’t get it