I feel better today than I’ve felt in a few weeks, better than I felt over my birthday weekend.
Less hopeless, more buoyant.
Maybe it’s the rain — I love rain. When the whole world has to play at being introverts.
Maybe it’s because I was in bed for 11 hours last night. I dreamed that I was an x-man and fought the bad guys in a way I’ve never had the opportunity to fight when awake.
Maybe it’s watching people dash across the street in sudden down pours.
Maybe it was IMing with a dear friend who left NYC to follow her God.
Maybe because I can’t shake the irony of my delete key falling off.
Maybe I’ve just cried myself out the last few days and my emotions are resting.
Maybe it’s as simple as being kissed good before my husband went to work. He’s a champ among champs as far as husbandry goes. He is a husband worth imitating.
I don’t really know what’s going on, what I’m feeling, why I’m feeling, or where in the sick/well spectrum I fall. Average PTSD treatment is 3-6 months. I’ve been with Christine for almost a year. Maybe when I turn 26 I will have more of an idea. Or, maybe I will walk blind all my days.