I’ve never really been a very religious person, but I have always had this vague sense that, for the most part, things in life turn out the way they are supposed to turn out. Perhaps it is why I am such a fan of Quantum Leap. In any case, after my previous post it should be rather apparent that despite how my demeanor may have come across in my blog writings, I have been in a rather bad emotional place for quite some time. No need to go into specifics (a detailed account of my wallowing and self pity might crash Blogger), but let’s just say there has been a lot of hatred and self loathing in the past year. A while ago I thought I was maybe getting a little bit better. Lately it has been getting a lot worse.
The other day I had a doctor’s visit. I have mentioned that a few years ago I had a disease that wrecked havoc with my weight, which is part of the reason I became so interested in sewing (what with clothes never fitting and all). While this desease has been treated, it has left me with a lifelong dependence on medication. And, unfortunately, at a certain level my mood and general happiness depend on having a precise amount of my medication. So when I started slipping back into a depressed funk, I probably should have suspected the medication first. Of course, when you are in a depressed funk your brain fixates on all of the reasons why you should be in a depressed funk and not really looking for solutions to the problem (for a hilarious but totally realistic look at depression you should read this post). In any case, the other day I was informed by my doctor that certain levels were not quite where they needed to be. Which actually sort of relieved me because that means a lot of the moodiness, depression, and bitchiness (his word, not mine) can be explain in a reasonable way. Which was the sort of a wake up call that I really really needed because it got me thinking.
Even better, I was able to go skating after the appointment, where I was able to practice figures. I love skating figures. On days when I most need it, it really is therapy for the soul. It lets my thoughts sort of float, and lets me think without over analyzing, since most of my brain is otherwise occupied. And so at this point I sort of had an epiphany. It is very Little Miss Sunshine and sort of cliche, but I decided that I really love what I am doing and the simple joy of it all should be enough to make me happy. And, really, it is. There are some parts of my life that I don’t like, and I will change them. Not right away, because I have things I have to finish first, but I really do have a start of a new direction and I really do think that in time things will be better.
Of course this past morning I had a bit of a backstep because a conversation dragged up a lot the fears and issues I am slowly coming to terms with, and so I do feel a bit bad about my behavior. But, well, it may have been sort of necessary for my emotions to be rather raw, because later in the evening I got a rather unexpected phone call from an old friend. As I previously mentioned, I sort of shut myself away from a lot of my friends because I felt responsible for frictions and tensions between different groups of people. But, well, a lot of things have happened since that time, and there was much to talk about. It was good. No, it was better than that – it was perfect. In a way I was able to talk with the only person who really could understand everything that had happened and offer comfort and advice in just the right way. It was exactly what I needed exactly when I needed it. Any sooner and I would have been unresponsive and any later and I would have been “fine.” So, yes, in a weird way the world still seems to be working out as it is supposed to, even if it is a rather painful journey in the process.
In any case, for the first time in a long time, I am actually feeling sort of excited about life, the universe, and everything. It is good, and sort of strange. And hopefully lasting. Things aren’t good, but for the first time in a long time I really think they will be. And that makes me happy.
(On a somewhat unrelated side note – sewing magazines from faraway foreign lands also make me happy. What is even better is when they show up on my pillow and I don’t have to do anything. Indeed, the sibling has returned bearing gifts, which should also be exciting news to my wonderful readers who are probably sick of this annoying, depressing moody drama crap and ready to return to blog posts on sewing. I know I am. What with holiday festivities I don’t know when the post will go up, but I assure you a return to sewing, skating, reading, and other joyous things in life is soon on the horizon. Like I said, I am excited, and I hope you are too.)