It was only a dream...

Well, look at that. I used to write. 

It's been ten years. How can that be? So much has happened since then. I've spent the last few days rereading old posts, having randomly thought to go back and look. Honestly, it feels as though it was all written by someone else. Someone I used to know a long time ago. Someone I just want to gather in my arms and hug until she squeaks. Because I think she really needed a hug.

Today I am objectively happier in every possible way. Of course there are things that aren't perfect, but life is never perfect. I had almost convinced myself that things really weren't that hard before. That things were always pretty okay, and any pang of anxiety about the past was simply a bit of passing melodrama. 

But looking back - REALLY looking back, I realize that thinking that way isn't fair to that girl who just wanted to figure it out and make everything okay. I realize that I can't minimize the journey, or take for granted the peace and the security that she worked so hard to find. I still spend a significant amount of energy on gratitude, but it's usually for the salient daily happenings. Rarely is it for the perseverance and bravery that girl showed by never giving up. She was so alone. That is what sticks out now. She was so, so alone.

The anxiety is still there, but it's a dull hum that doesn't stand up to rational thinking. Medication helps. Experience and wisdom help. Success helps. And not being alone anymore...well, it's kind of like having a tight collar loosened at the end of the longest day. You can still feel that it was there, but you can finally relax and take a deep breath.

I'm still kind of neurotic. I still lack the confidence of someone native to success. I'm still afraid that if I don't maintain control, everything just might fall apart. I don't think those things will ever go away. But I don't feel completely overwhelmed and beaten terribly often. I don't wonder how I'll keep it together until next week, next month, or next year. I rarely cry.

I used to keep a sticky note on my monitor at work. It had three letters - "IFP". 

"I Feel Pretty"

I needed to be reminded to give myself a bit of a break. To not always be so hard on myself.

Perhaps I need a new note. "IWFT".

I worked for this. 

I worked so hard. And I earned this life of relative luxury. 

Thanks, former me. You're pretty awesome. Come here and let me give you a hug.

I'm not terribly proud of my behavior lately. It's as if everything has just been too hard, and I haven't been able to keep my head up. I've spent the last week in my apartment, hiding from the world. I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to do anything. I don't want to go anywhere. I just...don't want to engage.

We're getting to be regulars at Al's Diner on weekend mornings. "Our usual counter seats?" he asked as we walked in. He was still holding the dog leashes in his hand. I smiled as I took them and put them in my purse.

I've started this post so many times, I should already have a novel.

This time, I'm just going to write. It will have to sort itself out in the end.

I've been so careful in relationships for so long, I had almost forgotten just how much fun it is to jump in with both feet and let the current take me where I need to go. I've let myself worry about the end from the very beginning, and I've kept a part of myself in reserve, afraid of what would happen if I didn't keep distance and perspective. Not wanting to lose myself, I've refused to allow myself the freedom to dream.

That may possibly be changing.

I've met someone who has unknowingly given me permission to feel free again. He makes my heart smile, and my crunchy exterior crack. His simple, straightforward approach to me is refreshing, honest, and endearing. He makes me laugh, and he makes me want to give of myself.

I'm not hesitating. I'm not worrying about the circumstances (which are unique and a bit of a challenge, but not unreasonable or impossible). I'm opening, and feeling.........well........sweet :)

Perhaps it will not work. Perhaps he will move on to something else. Perhaps he is not for me. But until I have reason to believe otherwise, I'm going to believe that there is a possibility for great things.

If nothing else, this is beautiful just because of that.

Listen to your head, then follow your heart.

Take the risk! You won't regret it.

Believe in the power of naps.

Hope for more than you expect.

Be silly with children.

Forgive yourself.

Have an occasional glass of wine in the dark.

Make wishes.

Watch fireflies.

Stop worrying!

Indulge in things you shouldn't.

Focus on the bigger picture.

Allow yourself a cookie.

Love your grandparents.

Never waste whipped cream.

If it's worth doing, do it passionately! Otherwise, don't do it at all.

Stay up too late talking.

Walk in the rain.

Use big words whenever possible.

Allow yourself to giggle.

Smile more.

Invest in the perfect bed pillow.

Trust your friends.

Splurge!

Sing in the shower. And in the car.

Love your mother.

Feel pretty. Or handsome. Whichever fits.

Let it go.

Laugh often.

Trust yourself.

Listen to birds.

Raise your face to the sun, close your eyes, put your arms out, and sigh happily.

Pet dogs enthusiastically.

Tell people how you feel.

Wear good shoes.

Listen carefully. But be selective in what you believe.

Love your life.

Love the world.

Love yourself.

Dream.

I was reading through old blog entries this morning, and wondering why so many of them were so very angsty. I also wondered why I have written so little over the last couple of years.

The truth, I think, is that I was never as dark as my blog would make you believe. It was just that there were moments when I needed to sort out the things that would fly through my head at speeds too quick to catch. I was learning to think smarter. I was identifying the tough moments (that everyone has, to be honest), and finding a way to exorcise them. I was evolving into someone with perspective.

Since I started writing, I've learned a lot about myself. I've learned that a lot of the drama that happens in your head is normal, and finding a healthy, private method of expressing it is good. You can't bottle up experiences like illness, death, breakups, or financial sector meltdowns. You also can't let them rule your life. You can talk about them, write about them, work through them...whatever it takes to move on from them. But you have to move on, and you have to let them go. Writing did that for me for a long time.

So why don't I write much now?

Because I don't have to.

Maybe I'll write some things that I want to. I have a few things wiggling around in my head at the moment that could use a good examination, but nothing that is battling to get out. I feel clean, and I feel healthy. I feel happy.

I was told this morning that I am someone who 'gets it', and almost laughed out loud at the concept. Not because it's not true, but because I never really imagined I'd make it this far.
I am still kinda goofy, but only in a way that makes me smile.

Thank you, blog, for providing years of free therapy. I <3 U.

A is at his dad's house tonight, and I have the house to myself. It is quiet, and there is nothing that has to be done before I go to bed.

It is amazing how just one evening of nothingness can recharge my soul.

I've been starting to burn out again, and I don't like it one bit. Why is it that I always have to push myself until I can't take anymore before I remember how to focus and put everything back in perspective? It's a vicious cycle that I need to break. I like the calm me. I enjoy the girl who takes things in stride and remembers to laugh every day. I want to spend more time with the quieter, more centered person who enjoys the small, beautiful things in life.

I know that a lot the problems right now stem from the bleakness of winter. The cold, dark days do nothing for me. The smell of grass, the warmth of rain, and the evenings filled with bird song and fireflies sustain me in subtle ways. I miss green. I long for lilacs. I pray for spring.

Bad things happen. Work takes over your mind, and people make you crazy. Errands pile up, and money becomes scarce. The house gets messy. Friends die.

How does one persevere and learn not to let these things take over? How do you maintain a sense of peace when all of those things drop into your lap when you're not looking?

I've gotten better over the years, God knows. Moments like tonight are more frequent than they used to be. I only wish I could find a way to stay in this place more often than not.

I guess all I can do is keep trying. I owe that to the girl who makes me smile...