life changing

Today someone looked at me and said, “What you said just changed my life.” And that shit changed my life. That is the reason why I am here. Still kickin’, after all these years. I am so grateful.

Lately I’ve been dealing with some anger. Left over anger. Anger that I didn’t have the chance to feel a million years ago so I’m feeling it now. And I get pissed off and I cry and I think, “why the fuck did all that fucked up shit have to happen to me?”

And then I share some of my story with someone. And it changes their life. And that shit is magic.

I used to wonder what my purpose was. I spent eleven (or more) years, trying to figure out why the fuck I was alive. And then I got tired of trying to figure it out. I realized that there wasn’t a reason I was alive. It just sort of happened as a result of a bunch of other random things happening and the next thing you know, here I am, contemplating all that shit. And that really bummed me out.

And today someone looked at me and told me that I changed their life. And that makes everything else make sense. It makes me feel like even though everything is random and nothing really matters, this moment matters to me. And ultimately, that’s the only thing that matters. I feel gratitude. I feel a lot of things, but I always feel gratitude. And that matters. It doesn’t change the rotation of the earth, it doesn’t end poverty, it doesn’t fix the fact that Donald Trump is the fucking president, but it means something to me. It makes me feel like my heart beat is stronger. It makes me feel connected to all of the randomness.

When I share my story and impact a person in a positive way, it gives a certain light to the darkness I went through. It makes the anger okay. It also gives the anger purpose. Like I need to go through this so that I can be a healthier person so that I can help other people be healthier people. That is my purpose.

I’m just so grateful I didn’t die. And I really needed to write about it because I’ve been so depressed lately and it has really been getting be down. And then something amazing like today happens and I remember that I need to go through this shit so that I can get through it and help other people through it, too.

It’s just amazing. The way things work. Or don’t work. The way things just happen to go. It’s amazing.

get out of bed, girl

Getting out of bed is hard, y’all. This morning I woke up around 8 am and it took three hours of debating to decide get out of bed. How’d I do it? I really wanted a cigarette. That’s how I did it. I’m not magic.

One thing about depression is that it turns my brain into a negative Nancy. Everything sucks when I am depressed. However, I’ve spent most of the last four years being really positive. My brain tells me that everything sucks, and somehow I have programmed a warrior princess in my brain to say, “HAHA! Flowers don’t suck! Dancing doesn’t suck! Let’s go over all the awesome things we’re looking forward to!” And then my depression rolls her eyes and tries to rain on everything while my warrior princess lists all of the things I’m grateful for on a never-ending loop. When my warrior princess starts getting tired, she forces me to look at the notes I’ve written myself for this very occasion. “Hey sim, I know you think everything sucks right now, but here are some things I know about you: you love your job, you love your family, you love your hair and you love it when people compliment your hair and that is not something to be ashamed of.” And then I smile, and then my negative Nancy is like, “yo girl, your hair sucks today.”

I’ve gone over this before, but what’s the only rule I follow when I am depressed? Show up. When I get my body where it needs to be, I am less able to come up with reasons why I am a terrible person. It really helps that negative self-talk. And goodness, that negative self-talk is having a field day in my head right now. It’s telling me not to go to work. It’s telling me that I am not valued there and they would love to fire me so I should totally not go in today so that they can fire me without feeling bad. Somehow I know that’s all bullshit, and I’m going to show up to work today.

The reason it took me so long to get out of bed is because I didn’t need to be anywhere until I needed to leave for work. This is something I have just realized: I’ll show up alright, but that’s all I’m going to do. I’m not going to respond to emails, I’m not going to work on my book, I’m not going to do my laundry, I’m not even going to take a shower. It’s hard for me to set new boundaries for my depression while I am depressed, so once I am not depressed I’m going to try to set it up so that showing up includes the things I am not obligated to do.

Ugh, that sounds so hard I’m not even going to think about it yet. I’ll just try to remember later. This morning, as I was texting jonny about my inability to get out of bed, he reminded me what a blessing it is that my life is good right now. Thinking about how good my life is tends to make me feel really shitty for being depressed, but it’s still a good thing to acknowledge. I’m so grateful that I have a job to show up to, I am so grateful that my wedding is in 80-something days. I’m so grateful that when I am in bed for hours on end, my dog and my cat come to see what’s up with me and they stay there with me, patiently cuddling, until I am ready to face my day.

I am depressed, and it feels shitty, but the people in my life who love me help to propel me forward so that I can move through this undertow with as little stress and shittiness as possible. And I’m feeling a little better right now. I’m feeling like I can do this day today. And today is all I need to think about right now.

thank you note

It’s a rainy day and I am loving having the day off, going at my own pace, and cuddling with my cat while watching Bob’s Burgers. The other day I made a gratitude list. And then I wrote a thank you note to  one of the things on that gratitude list. That thing was the stars (the ones in the sky, not Dave Grohl or Tina Fey). I’m going to post it below.

Thank you for being there, even with I cannot see you. Even when I don’t look up. Even when I forget you exist. Thank you for sometimes falling. It reminds me that it’s okay to fall. It’s beautiful to fall. Falling is even something I can wish upon.