What Are You?
Jan 13 2016
I’m working on swimming my way back to the surface. Watching my meds carefully. And my sleep. And trying to give myself a break for being human. Depression sucks. And it lies. And it sucks. But mostly right now it just makes me weary.
I’ve begun a dozen letters to you in the past 2 weeks. I haven’t finished any, but beginning them feels like a step on the way to the surface.
I’ll be back with you soon. Swearsies. In the meantime, I’m doing what’s necessary, letting everything else go, and painting my toenails blue because it’s the color of the water, where I wait, but also the color of the sky by daylight, which I seek.
With love — and always waving,
P.S. My daughter texted me this morning.
“What are you?” she asked.
I think she meant to ask where I was, but I decided to answer her question anyway because I’m rad.
“What are you?” she asked, so I told her I’m human. And partly divine. Magical and messy. Most days heavy on the mess. Weird and wonky. Also, wild and wonderful, although I have to remind myself of that a lot, and sometimes I don’t belive me. I am incredibly complex and also very simple, and I spend a lot of time being simultaneously sad and content, and giddy and joyful and bone deep exhausted.
P.P.S. Abby thanked me for the recap, and noted she just wanted to know where I was in case I wanted to bring her coffee. So at least I raised a kid with the right priorities. COFFEE. Coffee is always the priority.
P.P.P.S. When I told her I wasn’t getting her coffee, she texted me back sad faces.
And I reminded her it’s part of the human condition to be sad and happy. Both/And, friends. Both/And.
I’m pretty sure she liked that reminder as much as she would’ve liked free coffee.
In conclusion, I give and I give.
P.P.P.P.S. What are YOU? I’d like to know.