Winter, man. Winter.
Melancholy. Or maybe A Bit Touched. Or even Kinda Crazy. I embrace these terms more than the contemporary diagnosis of Depression. "Depression" is a weather pattern or an area on a topography map. The thing that invades my body has got a little more poetry than that. Teaching was good for me on many levels, but mostly because it forced me to model behavior that I knew was healthy. Even when I REALLY didn't want to. And THAT is what sucks about being a grown-up. I have done the work. I have learned the tools. I know what is wrong with me and how to fix. No more mystery. No more wondering what is wrong with me. No more excuses for self-medication or sleep marathons or 48 hours of bad television and endless crying jags. But that is not the end of our heroine's tale. No. Every morning is the beginning of a NEW adventure. A NEW mountain to climb or hole to dig out of. And that work isn't easy.
Luckily, I am a Pros vs. Cons kind of girl. And the Pros of doing the work, mental and physical, of getting out of bed and saying YES to the day and YES to the world so far outweigh the cons that usually it's an easy choice. I can usually talk myself into making my lists or prioritizing or giving thanks or whatever it is I need to do that particular morning to motivate me towards forward movement.
But being a grown-up and doing the work also means I can also forgive myself now for those days I just take my son into bed and watch the snow fall and know we aren't going to leave the house today. Not once. And I will let him watch some bad television with me despite the warnings from the American Pediatric Association. And lunch is going to be whatever he will eat cold from the fridge or room temperature from a box.
Because tomorrow will be better. Because I know how to make it so. Because I know I can. Winter or no.
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