I’m scared. Scared out of my wits. This is not something I ever admit to readily. And it’s certainly not something I want to admit to right now. Not when my life is in total upheaval. Not when everything that could go wrong, has gone wrong (knock on wood!). I know that I’m supposed to be all about bright sides and silver linings right now, but … it’s hard.
I feel it necessary to point out that my current state of distress is actually admirably low when you consider my myriad anxiety disorders and depression issues (I probably owe this to the meds). But I know it will get worse before it gets better, because despite my best efforts, I am not a “bright side” sort of person. Things are just never that shiny. And I’m afraid of that, too. I’m afraid of sinking into depression or walking around in a constant state of anxiety and not being able to pull myself up by my bootstraps. Because, sooner or later, maybe I won’t be able to, right?
But then, I close my eyes and take a deep breath (because that’s what they tell you to do, right?). And I remind myself to count my blessings. I can’t pray or “put it all in God’s hands” or anything like that. I’m too much of a control freak and, honestly, not religious enough (a discussion for another time). But I can count my blessings. I can remember every beautiful gift that I’ve been given (or stumbled upon by happenstance).
And right now, I am reminded that, even though life is scary and I may want to just give up, I have three little furbabies who depend on me for safety, comfort, and love.
Libby, Roxas, and Turbo.
0 comments:
Post a Comment