This probably isn’t the type of thing you’re supposed to announce on the internet, but I guess that’s never really stopped me before eh.

I don’t know what it was about March 10th.  I remember it was the first weekday of Daylight Savings Time. It was chilly in our room but sure to get warmer.  Here in Burbank, we haven’t had many cold days.  My eyes popped open at 6:41 am.  They felt different.  Instead of a groggy, puffy face, I felt fresh.  I felt awake.  I felt rested.  I felt pretty damn good.

And I haven’t felt that way in a long time.

Stevie began to stir in his crib, so I went and brought him to our bed for a little while.  Nobody went back to sleep, but there was some cuddling going on.  It was quiet and just the faintest hint of sunrise was peeking through our bedroom curtains, casting a blue haze on the room.  (Bear with me while I have fun setting a scene!)

As the day got going, I noticed people all over social media were posting about spring and sunshine and happy things.  And where recently that would have annoyed me, it was kind of nice today.  I agreed with everyone and double-tapped those sunny photos.  Paul and I went for a run.  It was not an easy run, but being outside felt good.  I told him I had high hopes for the upcoming week.  My attitude felt right.  I felt like myself!

It took that moment, that morning right there, for me to remember what I’m supposed to feel like.  How I used to feel when I woke up most days.  What normal to me looked like.  It made me wonder; have I been – dare I say – depressed the last few months?

I don’t know that much about depression, hell it might not be that at all. Maybe is frickin’ hormones. Who knows. I have always been able to pull myself out of a funk.  But it felt like more than that.  I was constantly feeling overwhelmed, tired, impatient, and frustrated, stress eating a LOT.  Doubted myself and my abilities, got anxiety-induced tummy aches. Even on my best days, I only felt OK.

I tend to keep things pretty wrapped up in a bow most of the time, and it’s not like I’m completely falling apart at the seams.  But while feeling happy usually comes very easy to me, the effort put forth was at maximum levels.

I think I have the right idea – wanting to get up and get things done and go places and get some exercise and get our house tidy.  But it hasn’t really been helping me feel better. So while that moment when the fog lifted felt really great, and I felt normal (so to speak) it really didn’t last long enough.  Comes and goes – always going too soon.

So.  There.  Pondering where I am at this point in time – the struggles we’ve faced with Stevie and coming to terms with his reality and experiencing such heavy loss in our family over the last year…

Well, I think I’m ready to start going to therapy.  If nothing else, I’ll have somewhere to put it.  No pressure to keep smiling and keep pressing on.  Just get some things off my chest.

I’ve kind of got a bone to pick with life.

Of course this will all have to wait a little while because I’m so stinkin’ busy but, as soon as my schedule opens up, wish me luck!

Confession complete.