It's easy to think that things are so tough for me; it's easy to feel sorry for myself. Then earlier today I get a reality check. I work in a nonprofit that has regular contact with people on the edge including people who are mentally ill and not seeking or open to any treatment.
One such person was in today. Just "treated and released" from a mental psych ward a week ago. Released to the street and homeless. Not taking the meds needed, but taking other "meds". The person begins to lose it, talking in a demonic voice, threatening staff and other guests.
Life is a bit "crazy" now, but I can distinguish what is real and what is not. I can function enough to hold down a job and feed my family. I will sleep in a warm bed tonight.
Life is good.
Then two other reality checks. I am at a meeting tonight and there is this amazingly cute man, perhaps a little young for me (perhaps not) across the room. I have all I can do to not stare. I hope he is noticing me. Was he looking at me out of the corner of his eye? I never had that feeling for a woman. I felt a little weak in the knees.
Then I'm staying up too late. Laying in bed and just thinking is too much so I stay up late. Watching Torchwood on Netflix. It's the episode with the infamous gay kiss. I want to cry. Weak in the knees again. I want to dance and embrace like that. I want to be able to do that openly and honestly and authentically.
Life is good. And there is hope. Today I will live in that hope.
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