Skeletons 3.2 – My Relief

**It’s been exactly one month since my last post.  I started this one a few weeks ago and I’ve been stuck.  I have a LOT to write about but I have been putting it off.  My character defects have basically been running the show and to be frank, I’m fucking sick of it. I’m sick of my perfectionism telling me this blog has to be written and read a certain way and my ego & pride standing in my way of unloading more shit that I don’t want to talk about. So here I am, with more baggage to unpack.  You ready? Cuz I’m not. But here we go.**

Relief (past and present): Laughter is the best medicine.

I haven’t been laughing as much lately. The fam and I did get into a HUGE tickle fight the other day…actually, 2 on two separate days…and those laughs were cheek burners, I tell ya. That was fun.  But other than that, eh…well…I just haven’t been in the laughing mood. Sure, I can muster a good chuckle here and there but my laugh, well, it’s never been like it was when I was pregnant with A2.  I can’t remember if I had the same laugh with A1 but with A2, oh my gosh, it was so annoyingly awesome.

For me, one of the best feelings is right after a long, hearty, from the gut, tear producing laugh.  Laughter like this makes me yawn and I feel a sense of calm and contentment after.  Sometimes I enjoy the laugh and feelings it produces so much, I’ll relive the moment by telling the story or watching whatever it was that was funny over and over just so I can “feel the feels” again and again.

Just like when I drank.

I love laughing so much, I’m attracted to people who have big, breathy laughs. Or a cackle. Ohhhh how I love me a good cackle.   If you make me laugh that way or you laugh at something I say that way, you will instantly be my homey.

Just like people who drank like me.

Laughter, it helps a hurting soul. It brings people together. It brings pockets of joy in difficult times. It lightens “the mood” in uncomfortable situations.

Just like the drink.

It just.feels.good.

Until it doesn’t anymore.

At the end of my drinking, it did not feel good anymore and it really wasn’t fun.  The only relief I got from it was when I drank to “cure” a hangover or calm my depression and anxiety that I didn’t know I had; which of course, only resulted in more depression and anxiety.

Speaking of anxiety, I am having some RIGHT NOW.  My heart is pounding relatively quickly as I am writing this? Why? Ugh. Know what…pause…

Goes downstairs, debates for a hot second whether to smoke a bowl or not, proceeds to move forward with it, says a prayer, has another internal dialogue, and ponders continuing to write or not. Answer? Go and try.

Instant relief.

Here I am, at my desk, in my closet, where I have been telling myself I will be every night for the past month, not doing so and blaming the weed for making me unmotivated.

I still think it is. But I know why I haven’t written and it’s not JUST that. There are 2 other reasons:

  1. I have finally come to accept that I am very prone to depression. It hits me like a ton of bricks and I’m NOT the best person to be around. Going off Wellburtin was the right decision but going against doctors orders and just cutting cold turkey was just fucking stupid. That was very rebellious of me. I knew better and I did it anyway. I did start a new medication today though, so I am hopeful there.
  2. I have changed so much since I started this blog and the trajectory of it has changed even more drastically. I have foreseen how it will evolve further and I know it’s God’s plan but I’m not ready to go there yet. Yet, I am, because I feel like writing about it is the only way I will be able to follow through. But the 5 year old me is standing here stomping my foot on the ground: but I don’t wanna! Wah wah!

I know what you’re thinking.

Then it IS about the weed, isn’t it?

FINE!

Yes.

It is.

#morewillberevealed

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