More of the same old boring…

ImogenI want to dance along the water’s edge tonight and sing some songs of love. Unfortunately, Imogen is lashing us with blow me down winds and the sea side is best avoided.

One thing I’ve let take root this past year of re –doing is allowing. Exactly what am I allowing you ask? Well, damn near everything. Do not mistake allowing for playing along, though, because that’s not what I’m doing. I’m morphing into a better version of myself by allowing me to be, well, me. By accepting my warts, and forgiving my faux pas, I am revealing the good, better, best version of myself. It’s never too late, yeah? Here’s hoping.

The last few days have been about allowing  a visit from demons. I think it is backlash. The old equal and opposite reaction kind of thing. Still, it’s not fun. I probably need to book a session with the amazing A, the shiatsu therapist who worked magic on me a couple of weeks ago. But I also just want them gone, and they will go. I’d just like it to be now.

The one thing I’ve come to realize with splendid clarity over these 312 blogs, is that my depressive episodes come uninvited. And while I try to allow, ask questions, learn and keep moving, it is essentially for naught. There’s no rhyme or reason to the arrival of the mess, or to the leaving of it which, trust me, it will do to uproarious celebration. No amount of pondering the questions of “why now?”, or “what brought this on?” delivers answers. It is what it is.

Really? Can that be true?

I am able to stand somewhat detached from these episodes as the years pass, but no matter the headway I make when ‘normal’, the patterns of my brand of insanity remain the same. Self-doubt, unreasonable fear, lethargy and the gloom of shame and guilt plague me despite my best efforts. But, I’m not giving up.

And nor should you. You’re worth anything and everything you can do to keep getting up every day and gradually you’ll climb out of that pit. You will. I will.

Oh, of course, it’s frustrating and as time ticks I get pissed off because doing things is hard, but hey, I am kind of used to this and I’ll get back up. I will. Soon.

And that’s my wish for tonight, that all those whose hearts are breaking from the shadow of depression, wake in the morning with the weight lifted, energy renewed, and hope restored. It can happen. Here’s to the magic.

Until tomorrow…

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