The weekend
CBC just phoned. She’s actually in the car on the way here for the weekend. We’ll do the meeting and dinner with the girls tonight and she thought the chicken barbeque at Camp Whitman tomorrow sounds like a great idea.
I occurred to me today that it was the morning after last year’s chicken barbeque that marked the beginning of this past year’s major depressive episode. I think a repeat performance is not in the cards.
I hope not anyway.
Giving it further thought, last spring I felt really, really good. Like there had been a major change in my life, things were in order, and I fully expected to rejoin greater society.
This spring, despite computer ills, real financial trouble and battling with air conditioning, I’ve found myself smiling through it all and looking ahead to the next challenge. Yeah, there have been brief periods of frustration and concern, but they’ve been just that. Brief.
Hell, even the dishes are done. Most of the time anyway.
In short, I’ve been happy.
At first it came as a bit of a shock. With so much going so badly, what on earth was I doing running around feeling happy?
I think it’s instructive to look at it from the flip side. When so much has been gone well, what on earth was I doing feeling depressed and unable to get out of bed?
The conclusion I reached is that like depression, happiness seems to be a mental state that exists without regard for external circumstances. Sort of an “I know why the caged bird sings” sort of thing.
I’m not sure where this goes, only just having thought of it this morning. But that’s what’s on my mind as I straighten up the place.
