Today was the third day in a row we’ve been in the 80’s since the seasons changed over. It’s been nice. And I believe it’s the cause for my drastic change in mood. For the first time in months, I felt something in me stirring. Something alive. It was a hopeful feeling, albeit vague. I felt something inside myself yearning for something in the distance, something just out of my perception. I don’t know what it is, but I long for it. I want to live to see it accomplished. This is an entirely different feeling from what my default state of mind has been for the last six months.
It’s hard to tell just how much of my anxiety and depression is linked with the weather. I guess I’d say it’s about one-fourth. Because while nice weather is enough to keep me holding on for another day, it does only just that. In the end, I still have crippling depression that makes it hard for me to get dressed, feed myself, and get things done. But it’s a start. Frankly, I’ll take it. It’s something, and it’s something wonderful. A month ago, I wanted to die. Straight up, just stop breathing, stop existing, end it. There was nothing else for me to do. And today, I feel like there might be another option for me, maybe. I’m desperately trying to be positive and build on that tiny, little feeling. I’m not going to let it get away from me, or so help me.
In my good mood, I’ve managed to feed myself, get dressed, do laundry, do dishes, and other various house chores. The weather is brilliant, and all of our windows are open. The smell is simply incredible. I tell you, nothing beats the smell of grass, sunshine, and fresh laundry. It’s been an incredible day. I feel like the only real downside is my fiance works late, and we both have to be up super early tomorrow. But, I can totally handle that.
In the mean time, I feel like there’s a few more things to accomplish before day’s end, and after that, I’ll probably settle in with some coffee or tea, and a book. I’ve been trying to re-read Journey to the West. The writing style is more-or-less a direct translation from it’s original Chinese dialect, and it’s in prose for most of the novel, so it’s a little difficult to read. Your brain wants so hard for the poetry to rhyme or follow a certain flow, and it just won’t. It takes some getting used to, but it’s well worth it. The imagery is simply spectacular, it really is an incredible read.