I read somewhere that the only thing you have to do to succeed in life is just get up one more time than you get knocked down. If that is true, then I’m declaring myself a success. If or when I get knocked down again I’ll get up again.
This past week has been the pits. I feel like a got dragged backwards through a barbwire knothole. My outlet for just about anything is writing. When I sit down to make a post and realize that I’m paralyzed – that’s when I know I’m trouble. When I can’t even write it’s serious.
I started out as a child. Before you panic, I’m kidding. Not going to tell my whole life story to you…just yet. My life is an incredible adventure interspersed with incredible stress and sadness. It’s the nature of the beast when you grew up in the midst of mental illness. Despite what any experts say, insanity is contagious, you catch from your children, or parents, or siblings. Whoever in you life who is nuttier than a fruitcake. It rubs off you in some bass ackwards kind of way. What I’m diagnosed with is clinical depression.
People who don’t know me that well say “What you? You’re the happiest person I know!” Yea Yea. The class clown, the life of the party, the one cracking the jokes, the one being strong when others are freaking out. Mr. Husband reads my posts, so I know as soon as he reads this he’s going to choke on his coffee.
He’s seen the dark side. That person who gets so down that she can’t even figure out what underwear to put on in the morning, let alone make any kind of important decision. He’s seen the person who cries 48 hours nonstop, using up 4 boxes of tissue and 2 bottles of nose spray. He knows that person who only gets out of bed to get a cup of coffee to have enough energy to go back to bed.
That person is me also. Cheerfulness turns to sarcasm and cynicism fast when I’m depressed. Someone says “when life gives you lemons, make lemonade.” Oh? When life gives you lemons you get lemon juice in your eye and choke on the seeds. Someone else says “there’s a silver lining to every dark cloud.” Phoeey on that! If you see a dark cloud, chances are a tornado is going drop down out of it and blow you house away.
When you laugh the world laughs with you, when you cry, you cry alone. I bet Mr. Husband wishes that was true on occasion. When the tears decide to come I’ll cry anywhere, a restaurant, an airplane, the Ferris wheel, zip lining across the Amazon river. OK, I haven’t really done the Amazon thing, but it’s on my list.
My latest dark cloud of doom came in the form of a slew of poison pen letters from my daughter this past week. It ended with going to the funeral of a friends mother. I stood there at that grave and thought to myself, “Self, you have spent your whole life up until now, trying to get love, or even a civil word now and then, from people who are not capable or willing to give it. You have spent your whole life trying to be strong so people can ride you around like a trick pony.”
I’m not doing it anymore. I’m tired of carrying the world around on my shoulders. It’s no damn wonder I have a crick in my neck.
On a happy note, I am managing to keep up my word count for the NaNoWriMo challenge. I’m looking forward to what the story is going to be at the end of November.