There's this funny thing that always makes me feel better.
I've always tended to be the sort of person that tends toward being perhaps a bit of a cynic in certain areas. I can well imagine that, lately at least, my truer nature has come across in some recent blog posts.
For whatever reason, perhaps some misfiring neurons or some underperforming protein builder, my feelings are just not as pretty as those of others, or maybe I grossly misunderstand how anxious so many other people are.
Of course I'm not constantly walking around under my very own storm, but I also like storms. I like gray, drizzly days. What I don't like is too much sun, partly because it's so damn bright. I don't hate it, but some days I just wish it didn't have to try so hard. Night time is the best, and of course dry and warm would certainly rule. A decent amount of cold and even some wet can be appreciated as well. But really none of this is at all what I started out to write, though it does seem to serve in some small way to attempt to explain what it is I'm saying. I mean, it's kind of Addams Family on some level.
There's an ongoing discovery that I make and have made and will likely continue to realize, but there is one thing that always helps, and when I've got the money and can find it my life is so much pleasanter. Beer sort of almost helps, but beer is its own thing and is better used for physical ailments than . . . mental? spiritual? . . . not sure, because I just don't know exactly what my problem is.
Momma has suggested that perhaps I need counseling. She's gone so far as to think there is some amount of chance I could be prescribed something to make me normal, but the very idea of buying pills to be like other people seems a little . . . um . . . I'm not sure, but in the words of a friend's three year old, "don't like it."
But there is something, a substance that makes it all go away. Okay, it doesn't do that at all, but it takes the edge off sometimes. It doesn't dull the pain or make me see things that aren't there. I've mentioned it here at the ol' deskfull a time or two.
It makes me easier to be around. It helps me crawl out of my own butt long enough to see the people around me. It helps me realize I don't have it so much worse than everyone else and reminds me we all have it mostly the same but in our own way.
I've figured out that I will never be happy-go-lucky or feel like my glass is half full or half empty because of anything I did. It will still sometimes be the universe after my ass yet again. There will often be those stabbing rays of sun in my eyes even when everyone else is enjoying a nice rain shower. And it's okay. If I take my meds like a good boy I'm better, and really, something I could easily grow with little trouble isn't quite meds. It's really that simple.