Now That We're At DEFCON 2...

People, I will not sugarcoat my situation but I won't divulge too much either. Let's just say things are baaaaad over here, they really are. And for four weeks I hid in my apartment, sleeping entire days away, shutting off my phone and sending calls to voice mail. I wore the same clothes everyday, didn't even bother to brush my hair or teeth, ate sporadically and, without warning, found myself crying in the shower. Baaaaaad!

Nothing about what put me in this catatonic state has changed except my attitude. I suppose you can say I was tired of being tired. Only problem was, my usual method for cheering myself up was either self-destructive (sex, drugs, rock 'n roll) or expensive (did I ever tell you about the time I used to have an extensive shoe and handbag collection?). This time around I had to actually WANT to come out of it.

For some reason, it wasn't enough that I had an army of the best friends known to mankind in my corner, cheering me on, talking sense into me, checking in to see if I was still alive, I had to WANT to come out of it. And, well, I'm like 76% embarrassed to admit, it was a man that finally did the trick.

NO, NOT LIKE THAT! You guys are so perverted!

It was just something he said in response to my text alerting him that I was not taking any calls from anyone because I was in a bad place; he was mortified, and responded with a, "NO, NOT YOUUUU!" that actually made me laugh. Imagine me, being the person someone else turns to in order to chase the clouds away! I felt a sort of responsibility at that point to just allow myself to smile and be happy and let my friends in a little bit. I tucked some pride away and took a phone call or two. Even rejoiced in a good friend's recent good fortune, I mean actually, genuinely happy for her and not lamenting my miserable state at all. That's when I knew I'd finally turned the corner.

Still- there is doom & gloom seated at my table, make no mistake about it. It's right here in my face as I type this post. I can smell it's stale, depressing stench. It lures me back into bad habits and I've slipped up here and there but I'm not sleeping the day away and I'm answering the phone when it rings. I'm allowing myself to smile and laugh and enjoy myself. I've even left the apartment for more than just appointments and mommy duties, wearing clean clothes and teeth and new hair.



But more importantly, I wrote something new. Just, SHHHHHH! don't tell my muse. If she finds out I've been writing without her...

*smooches...waiting for this chapter of my memoir to be over and done*
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y'all know I have no patience; I'm ready to move on to the next big thing (that's what she said!)