It's been years since I could say that I felt happy. Or okay, even. For such a long time, depression has hung around me, living in my apartment, eating all my food, yelling all my negative thoughts back at me. And then PTSD moved in too, and that was also a lot of fun. They've sort of been having really awful parties in my brain for quite a while and they didn't really care how many times I told them to knock it off and get out of my house.
But now, here I am. Somehow, almost without noticing, they have mostly knocked it off. I feel all right. I feel all right for the first time in a very long time.
It's strange to stop and think, Hey. I'm okay now. Because I honestly can't remember the last time I was able to say that. And I can't really go back and pinpoint any spot where things changed. I don't think there was a big epic moment where suddenly I was doing all right. It's like a scar healed in the background without me noticing.
I mean, I can think of things that have helped. Going to poetry slams and reading has been helpful. I'm still nervous as hell and a terrible public speaker and I don't think I have any stage presence whatsoever, but if I'm honest with myself, it hasn't been as hard as I thought it would be. I guess that's what they always say, isn't it? You build it up to be more difficult than it actually will be. But yeah, it hasn't been so bad. Truthfully, I'm still sort of awestruck that actual real live poets complimented my work and told me to read more often. Is that a dorky thing to think?
And okay, I've been taking all my vitamins. Maybe that is helping too. Mostly it's like, when you work at a health food store you usually end up taking vitamins. And I'm a natural skeptic, but yes I do think it's helping at least a little.
I get out of the apartment occasionally, so that's pretty cool. Not just to poetry slams, but sometimes just to go wander around by myself, which is something I enjoy. It took me a while to admit to myself that I like wandering around by myself. I guess I felt self-conscious about it, like spending too much time alone was abnormal. But there's a difference between isolating due to depression and enjoying time spent alone. I've done both and now I can sort of tell the difference.
I mean, I'm not perfect yet. I still have issues. I'm still a person with depression and social anxiety and PTSD. I probably still have things to work through and figure out.
But right now, I am okay. Not perfect, but not terrible either. I'm just okay. And that's okay.