It’s 49° this morning and it’s the first time in a long time that I’ve felt motivated. This summer was a total bitch. Weather really affects my mood, more so than I thought. I used to walk to the bar to simply get a ice cold glass of water and I’d stay to (accidentally) drink 6 beers and listen to other people’s drama. I had two choices this summer, or I should say, I gave myself two choices. Stay at home, in bed, in my sweltering room and obsess over my pathetic life or go drink until I was comfortably numb. Both of which I didn’t want to do. I was drowning.
But now that the weather has finally broken, I see many other options. My mood has shifted and it’s the first time I haven’t woken up in a panic, screaming “FML!” God, that was terrible.
I spent the last week in the country with my mother. It was good for both of us. She had company and I was able to reset the clock. I didn’t drink, I broke my writer’s block, I joined meet ups for local artists and I recounted all that I was thankful for, which is probably the most important part.
Being stuck in depression and negativity doesn’t allow much room for gratitude. And I think that is what I was missing. I knew it too and I hated myself for resenting everything good going on in my life. I have tremendous supports right now, more than I could really ask for and quite frankly more than I deserve. I have a home, food and good friends.
Rebuilding after loss isn’t easy for anyone. Especially when there was once a time when you were able to handle all aspects of life on your own. Especially when you had plans for your future that should have happened by now. It’s hard to accept that things are no longer the same and that you actually need help in your recovery. I’m prideful and I’m stubborn. And that is getting me nowhere fast.
It’s time to humble myself and accept that a slow, steady rebuild is necessary. Once again.
Instead of walking to the bar, I’m going to be taking a left and head to one of the best trails in the country. I rejoined instagram and intend to take photos of my journies. It’s the littlest of inspirations that will lead me back to my art, which is a big goal for the upcoming months.
I have support. I have a home. I have art waiting in the corner of my room. I have writing. I have family and I have friends. I am alive. I have more than I need.
It is high time I focus not on the should haves, could haves and would haves, but the reality of what is. I’ll start from there.
I have a very hard time focusing. On anything. Especially the baby steps that will undoubtedly help me reach long-term goals. I become so obsessed with visualizing the end result that I forget the journey is where the magic happens.