I looked at David the other day while we were sitting on the couch.  And out of the blue, I blurted something to the effect of:

“Just so you know, I’m one of those people that’s always sad.”

It’s been like this for a long time.  I’m always glum.  I’m Eeyore, through and through.  Present me with a situation, and I’ll tell you how it sucks.  As me how my day was, and even if it was 95% fine, I’ll tell you how it was terrible.  How I want to cry when I think back on what happened.  How things will not be brighter tomorrow.

I can’t tell if this is just me, or if there’s something, well, wrong.  How do you know?

I know it’s not hormonal.  I used to have major issues with these negative feelings back when I was on a certain kind of birth control.  (Hi, TMI. Get used to it, family.)  Round when I’d get to one part of the pack, I would cry for days and everything was The End Of The World.  I would lay in bed and weep and cry hysterically, and tell David that the world would be better without me. I never did anything to, you know, rid the world of myself, but let me tell you: thems were bleak days.

Now, though, it’s just a general fog.  A patina of ennui.  This feeling like nothing is going to get better; my view of the future is only occasionally unclouded if I manage to get really worked up over something political, or if I daydream about making some sort of rash and utterly irresponsible decision about changing my life path.

There are SO many things that make me happy– David, for one; being at home and working on making things I can be proud of. Those darn fuzzy mongrels that cover my house top to bottom in fur and drool.  They’re pretty much the greatest.

Even my job, I can rationalize and be a-ok with.  I am doing something 16 year old me would think was awesome, despite it’s problems.

So, why the fog?  Why the gloom?  Why the general feeling of malaise?  Why the tendency to stay home and sit on the couch, when I have a great-big-wide-wonderful world outside the door?

be sure to share!

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