Here it is, Sunday afternoon and it's thundering loudly. The clouds and rain continue to haphazardly move through this part of the world, and while there is a certain peace and charm that comes with their presence, I'm also struggling to peer beyond the grey, to the happy stuff- to the sunshine that has to be hidden somewhere behind their masses. I think any reader of this blog has, at some point, probably picked up on my tendency to be a bit melancholy. It's something that I've struggled with for as long as I can remember, and the past few months have brought a wave of blue that I am, quite literally, battling with every moment of every day. I am not quick to call it depression, but I'm wise enough to acknowledge my boundaries and moods, and for the sake of those dear people that surround me, I desperately want to "get better".
I say all of this because the past couple of days have left me struggling. The rain doesn't help, nor do certain other minor stressors in my life, but truly, as I've always been told, the biggest contributor to my sadness continues to be my head. I think, and I think, and I think... too much, I realize, and lately I've been asking myself where the correct line is. I am self-aware enough to know that it is very nearly impossible for me to not think about the things in my life that affect my heart. I am not able to merely "stop thinking so much", as I've been told by many a friend and family member. And yet I know that their words hold truth- I DO think things to a place of utter desperation, and generally what I'm left with is something that has been wrung dry of any joy and instead appears bigger and darker and scarier than necessary.
So here are a few truths:
No, I don't love this place I am in, and Yes, I am still suffering from some pretty stiff rejection from the man that I have loved for most of my adult life, and Yes, I am unbelievably scared of this profession that I have chosen to pursue with all of my energy and finances and time. But, yet, there must be a purpose for all of it and some goodness in all of it and so, you see, I am forced to THINK about ALL of it in order to discover the GOOD and GREAT parts of it...
I'm not sure if any of that makes sense.
(Are you beginning to see my tendency to think about things too much??)
However, at the end of the day, I haven't lost my hope. And, for me, and for anyone who has struggled with innate sadness, this truly is the very strongest of glue that holds life's hardest moments together. I must trust and I must pray and I must laugh and I must feel the wind on my face and the sun on my back. I must continue to hope for the things that are unseen- for my future, for experiences that are yet to come, for new friends and relationships, for new tastes and smells and views. I must find joy in the small things and smiles on the faces of strangers. I must continue to talk to those who love me and pray to the one who created me and find the peace that comes with loving the real "me"...even with all of my quirks and over-thinking ways.
It's a scary process, but I know it's also sacred one.
And so, I'm trying to find the balance and the grace in all of it. I know life isn't always pretty and without pain. But right now, sitting on the porch listening to the new rain beginning to fall, I have to cling to who I am and who I know to be- a thinker and an observer. I just pray and hope that I have the endurance to see through to the sunnier side.