Part of my goal in posting this year was to send out fun little life-hack-y things once a month and generally lighten the mood around here. “Here” being my brain, I guess? Your brain, hopefully?
I forgot, however, one important rule of thumb: never make promises when you’re in a good mood, because inevitably you’ll have to follow through on them when you’d rather fall out of a high window than answer your front door. So my May post slunk under the wire with zero fanfare, no email to subscribers, and me generally wanting to pretend it didn’t exist. Because why would anyone who was struggling themselves want to read about the lowest point in my year?
The irony is, I was inspired to be honest and write that post by the many others who were being honest about the hard times they were going through. Normally put-together people who had jobs and food and a roof over their head and yet were struggling to get out of bed. I was relieved to read their posts, honestly; they didn’t bum me out at all, they gave me courage to be honest about my own feelings. I hide my feelings all the time, I tell myself it’s to spare others the boredom of listening to me complain, and yet all it does is distance me from the people I love and I need to knock it off. My therapist keeps giving me very serious looks through the Zoom camera as she reminds me that my feelings are valid, that my voice deserves to be heard. I cannot properly express how strange it is to have someone repeatedly tell me these things. I’m experimenting with believing her.
Brian is here for two weeks, living in my tiny apartment with me while we look for a house and while Jackson is away on a trip with friends. I find my energy can comfortably expand to include him, though at times it comes all the way in and leaves him far away, in the normal ebb and flow of being me. Miraculously, he accepts that? I’m pretty sure he’s not kidding. I think I lucked out with this guy.
