Victorious

Wow. Are we sliding toward June already? It seemed like I'd been saying, "I haven't been feeling that great these last few weeks" for longer than a few weeks. 

Instead of giving in to that feeling, I wanted to rise above it. I've used the excuse of not feeling great for all of my less-than-stellar behavior; you know, sleeping in, taking naps (yes, plural, on any given day), binge-watching Gilmore Girls, and binge-eating whatever happened to be available.

Before you think I'm judging anyone's sleeping, TV, and snack habits, stop right there. My concern is that for me, my activities have been excessive in response to my feeling crummy. I can blame my meds, or depression/anxiety, or whatever I want, but it was time for me to figure out what I could control. Guilt had been my constant companion of late. I wanted a break from those feelings, and I knew if I stepped up my game, I would get the relief I sought. I wanted to triumph over feeling out of control. 

Here we are and it's Friday. I feel GOOD. This week has been nothing short of phenomenal for me, which is so welcome after the suckiness of late. I'm feeling slightly victorious; like I'm the conqueror of the blah and meh days that have been kicking my butt. 

So what's different? For one thing, I no longer have those crummy meds coursing through my system that kept me awake longer, made me sleep harder, and made me wake up groggy, and made me feel like I needed at least two more naps to get through the day. Although it took me a few weeks to get used to my new medication, I think I've finally found one that works for me. 

Another thing that is helping is doing some things that make me happy. I've slept through the night. Wow. Okay, that was huge. One day I did yoga. A couple days, I walked the dogs. I've been reading poetry by Mary Oliver, and visiting with friends. Whenever I invite people over, I feel obligated to tidy the house, and that makes me feel better, too.

Here it is Friday, and I can still say I am feeling fine. 

Deep breath in; slow breath out. Feeling so much gratitude.

This day has been full of good things. I ate low-carb zucchini enchiladas for breakfast, after editing hundreds of pictures of beautiful children from the youth theater where Chuck and volunteer as photographers. Then I played in the dirt, digging up dandelions, and planting my geraniums and a spike. Our house has instant curb appeal now that my signature porch plant is in place. After I buy some more dirt, I will plant my tomatoes; a Beefsteak and an Early Girl. 

When I came back inside, I sipped on an iced crème brulée decaf coffee and read my friend Donna Amburgey's book, Tears, Fears and Arrowheads. The first paragraph lured me in, and her descriptive prose kept my nose in the book while I iced my back. 

Listen to this:

"The generations blurred into each other as young girls first bloomed and then softened into the pudgy contours of their mothers." 

Isn't that great?

Country music has been blaring from the speakers all day. Can I get an A-MEN? (Okay, I know this cheese may be standing alone in The Farmer in the Dell game, but I have a lot of friends back home in Utah and Virginia who would stand with me.)

Our sweet little neighbor Evie is celebrating her birthday tomorrow, and I promised to make her "those cinnamon things" she likes so much. Yes, Miss Denise would do just about anything to hear Evelyn squeal and give her a hug. 

I need to go frost the cinnamon rolls, and then visit Chuck's mom. I promised to bring her some fresh-baked goodies when we go water her flower bed today. 

A day that requires an apron is usually a pretty good day in my book. And one that involves reading a good book? And editing photos? And dirt under my nails? And an iced coffee? And puppy snugs? And a walk with my husband? The only thing that could make this day better is if it ended with us in Utah with my kids tonight. I'm counting down the days until baby boy's wedding in July. This mama can hardly wait. 

I hope you can do something that brings you joy today. I feel like I'm trying to make up for so much lost time. If, like me, you have found yourself lost in a blur of too many blah days strung together on a raveling piece of baling twine, take this moment to take a deep breath. Look out your window. Think of something that makes you happy. 

Be a victor of this moment. It will feel so good; I promise.