Lately I have been feeling like a living thing. This is new for me, being that my depression tends to make me feel dead or near death both physically, and soul-wise. Yesterday I even told R that I was happy. That is a big statement, and after saying it I instantly felt jinxed, like somehow the depression gods heard and would send the disease back to me brick by brick.
But I said it, and there it stands. I am happy. Not ecstatic, not in a state of bliss, but solidly, tangibly, happy. Things go up and down and I find myself moody and disheartened in the evenings but that is much more bearable than feeling it all day.
I even sing little jingles here and there. One while I was twirling around in a new dress, another about being happy. Sometimes life can be a wee bit fun. This is a whole new type of living I am discovering. My life has always been so low and grey so to see some sun is pretty amazing.
Love, a happy C
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