Every day I try to find the delights in being alive in this body, in my very human experience. But there are some days in which I grow weary of the search for gratitude and positivity.
The dizzying dichotomies are overwhelming. I get tired of sleeping all day. I feel exhausted walking from one end of a room to another. Some days I cannot bear to swallow so many fucking pills. Some days I want to take my anti nausea pills all day and not be conscious because I can’t stand the world in such a raw form. Lights are too bright, sounds are too loud, smells make me literally want to run away. This often chains me to the bed which has been both comforting and utterly confining.
But then my cat will pop up with his toy in tow for me to throw. Or a butterfly will land in my line of sight. Or I’ll unexpectedly receive a sweet note in the mail. Simple, wonderful things will happen, and after my first reaction of fighting the joy, my gratitude and positivity will inevitably resume.
Is that what they call “sitting with it”? If so, I can sit with the best of them.