Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot,Nothing is going to get better. It’s not.
I’ve been stewing on this quote for a while, brought to you by the great Dr. Seuss in The Lorax. I think on it often. And lately, it just bubbles to the surface, like life is trying to teach me that lesson.
The think about getting comfortable in my skin is that I’m not comfortable. But I’m comfortable with that. I’m so depressed I can barely breathe or I’m so manic I can barely take a breath. Or, in the moments between, I’m so empty that it’s like the breath has been knocked out of me. (See a common theme here?)
What I know is that life is hard. It’s hard in general, but there are things that make it harder. Invisible illnesses, visible illnesses, being different that society deems appropriate, being unique. Life comes at you with brutal force that knocks you down, and just keeps kicking. It takes you by surprise (and not always in the nice way) and brings you to the depths of your abilities. It gives, it takes and you are left to cope.
It’s a very exciting life that keeps me guessing. I wake up and find some days that I can’t get a hold on life quite yet and I wake up some days and grab life by the reigns. Other days I feel like life has gotten away from me. But that’s why this quote comes back to me.
At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter if I’m depressed so majorly that I feel life leaving me. It doesn’t matter if I’m so apathetic that I just pass the day in a blur. It doesn’t matter if I’m so manic that I don’t sleep for a week and process everything at lightning speed.
What matters is that I always look for another day.
The sun will rise again.
So, as I pass through the land of no feelings and into the land of (hypo)mania, I smile. Not because I’m happy, but because I know that unless I wait for another sunrise, unless I keep trying to get a handle on life, it will not get better.
I hope all you lovely folks have a beautiful day. _/|\_