Recently, I* noticed the dates on my blogs happen to omit the year. (someone with the initials of TH*)

To the untrained eye, you might think I posted every few months. Not so bad. But the admin side of this page lets it all hang loose and survey says…not even once a year! Only two posts made it in 2019 and the most recent was October of 2021.

You don’t have to tell me, I know I’m making a great impression right now. /s

Let me explain before I let you move on to this never-before-seen, pre-pandemic draft. You see, my problem with being consistent stems from wanting to be…(pause for dramatic effect)…excellent. So, I wouldn’t say I’m necessarily striving for perfection here, but I am overly optimistic about what is achievable. I was one of the gifted kids “back in my day” and yes, that absolutely does mean that I hold myself to a disgustingly high standard. How’d you know? Enough about my trauma.

A lot of my friends (myself included) have been struggling lately - going through more bad days than good and/or just now learning how to be kind to themselves. And that shit is deeply exhausting! So in tribute to the struggle, I'm posting Draft One, the first of a “series”.

I don’t remember the day I wrote this, but I do remember absolutely bawling while writing many times. Days when existing kinda hurt, for lack of a better way to truly describe it.

Maybe this is one of them. If that…interests you, then please read on! (This is a weird introduction, I have regrets)

Do you ever have those days that might start off perfectly normal? You wake up in a decent, or even good, mood and you feel hopeful for whats to come. You go through the motions of your routine, whatever that may look like, and somewhere along the way you just feel… the happiness fade away? I’m having one of those days today.

For no reason that I can sort out, I just don’t feel happy or positive. I don’t want to go see that movie I already bought tickets for. I don’t feel like blow drying my hair, even though I know it’ll look bad if I let it air dry. I don’t want to finish any of the house chores that really need to be done, despite knowing I’d prefer my house to look like a catalog for tomorrow (my boyfriend’s mother is coming to town and spending the night). I don’t want dinner and nothing sounds good.

On top of everything, I feel the need to place the blame elsewhere. My boyfriend should’ve woke me up earlier so I could maybe feel more accomplished. We should’ve planned more to do together so I could feel like our anniversary meant more or lived up to whatever expectation I guess I had.

I keep making excuses for why I’m just not into it anymore and as much as I know it’s not healthy, I’m not doing anything about it. I know I could reach out to friends or family with how I’m feeling, but I just don’t feel like it. I don’t want to bring anyone else down. By else I mean, I’ve already had sourpuss written all over my face and I spewed out all of my negativity to my boyfriend.

I feel guilty.

I feel guilt for bringing someone else down to the mood I’m feeling.

But you know what’s funny?

I was so convinced I would be brooding in this mood for the rest of the day. I started a bit of a tiff with my boyfriend and I thought, GREAT, now we will be bickering on top of my bad mood. But then, he hopped into the shower and I opened up my blog and started to write. I thought this sort of feeling would be relatable and if anyone were to read this, they might find it comforting.

The process of typing or writing out your thoughts, especially when you’re not in a good mood, can be so damn cathartic. The relief! Sometimes, I feel like we may think we know how we’re feeling, but unless you’re being totally honest with someone or yourself, we only know our feelings at a surface level. These thoughts weren’t in anyway complex. I didn’t need to get to some ulterior root of my feels. No real “reason”.

Well, that’s as far as it got and I can’t fill in the blanks. May 2019 was a lifetime ago. If I had to guess, I probably consumed a medicinal fruit snack (doctor’s orders), and felt an even greater mental relief.

The clouds parted and the suffocating fog dissipated. Things weren’t so overwhelming or too heavy. It was alright.

And I am now, too. I’m alright.

…and medicated.

The clouds will part for you, too.

Keep going.