I haven’t been feeling the least bit scared lately despite the truckload of new, er, pursuits, suddenly parading themselves in front of me, each one’s great potential for the kind of failure that numbs you for months as obvious as day, and so I took my blatant disregard for risk a sign that a)said pursuits are worth the long haul b)I may be getting better, or to be precise, I have been made to feel like there is nothing to recover from in the first place. How people surprise you, huh.
Imagine then my great annoyance when tonight, after a wonderful day of finding myself engrossed in research for work and daydreaming about handholding like teenagers in gala nights and an upcoming trip to the mountains in between, I crashed without warning. The good thing is, the whole episode lasted for only three hours and I can feel the slightest stirrings of hope again. Isn’t it just terrifying though to consider that this might be how things will be for the rest of my life, a toss-up of empty superlatives, a moment’s notice of alternating sheer bliss and crippling despair?
I’m very proud of myself for dealing with this better but this remains a paralyzing thought during the dark hours. This being good to yourself enterprise really is an everyday thing. I must work harder on remembering that this condition makes me not corrupted but complex, and complexity is void of any moral value, ergo I shouldn’t be too hard on myself and instead actively choose to dwell in the memory of good things. To add to the repertoire, for example, a week ago, on an afternoon when everything was still and shafts of afternoon light streamed into my room filling it with the softness of a sunset, I decided to launch into the depressing story that is fairly recent events knocking the wind out of me without warming, hesitated but confessed how I think I might never be as adjusted as I need to be because of collateral damage, and was only rendered speechless when someone came closer for a kiss, asked if I knew about the Japanese art of kintsugi and proceeded to give a speech about entire towns visiting exhibitions of pieces made exquisite because their crevices were mended by gold.