Me

It isn’t very often that I actually get a day where I can sit around and do nothing. I forgot how good it was. How good it felt to relax and rest my brain, voice, and eyes (yes, I’m not wearing makeup). Not to mention my nose, which has decided to run like crazy since I woke up this morning probably because I haven’t smelled a fragrance all day.

I’ve been watching episodes of Bones laying on my couch. I should be reading, but part of me needed this. Needed something mindless for a while. Needed a single day to take a step back from stuff. From the stuff that wasn’t me. The corporate sellout stuff. The wound up, stressed out, emotionally bottling, number cruncher who forces a smile to everyone.

I probably give off a very wrong impression of myself on this blog. I spend quite a bit of time venting on here, which had never been my intention when I started out. I also give opinions, which almost all of the time, are not half as solid as the opinions of most, which makes them more accurate to the definition of opinions (which ought to be much more malleable than what one thinks of as truth). But I am getting sidetracked. I’m actually pretty introverted. I like snuggling with my cats. I’m not actually as angry as I sound on here. I’m a realist, but….I love to laugh about it. I love to laugh in general, because that is the best way to deal with depression. It helps a lot. It’s why I’m in a relationship with a man, who makes me laugh a great deal, even though we are having a long distance relationship. Which we also laugh about.

I’m not angry about my life. I fear I may have given that impression on here. I get angry about things that happen, but I actually love my life. I somehow value it, even though I struggle so much. I’m a much more hopeful person than I think I portray here. I deal with very normal frustration, but perhaps I vent too much? I feel like I do.

I wonder (apathetically) if people would read my blog at all if I posted more “pretty” stories? If I talked about how well things go. If I spoke more of my “blessings” rather than my struggles? I am a person who has a hard time believing things that look and seem too good to be true. So I tell the truth. Sometimes painfully. Sometimes while I write I admit things to myself. Which is also painful at times. Just as painful as wondering and seeking answers there would be no answers or closure for. Which can also be wonderful.

I don’t want a life that’s pretty, and full of beautiful happiness. I want beautiful sorrow too. Humanity is made to be rational and emotional. I tend to enjoy experiencing the emotional a great deal. It reminds me I’m alive. That I need to keep living. You know, for the sake of the full human experience.

So now I drink tea. A whole pot. Sitting on my couch watching Bones …living the human experience.

*insert heavy sigh*

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