I am feeling a touch more optimistic this morning. Maybe it’s that my mom – after two weeks of hell for both of us – has had a stretch of three good days, including Christmas. Maybe it’s that I woke up sandwiched between two dapper, cuddly gentlemen and a beautiful lady (my cats, in their new collars). Maybe it’s that I haven’t looked at the news or The Bird Site in over a month, largely because I simply haven’t had time or energy to deal with it, and I’ve had fun trying out Mastodon as a less toxic alternative. Maybe it’s just the beginning of that hypomanic spell that I knew would be coming any minute. Whatever it is, I’m not going to be studying this gift horse too closely. I need it too much.
I’m going to try to take advantage of the unexpected surplus of spoons and try to get some things done. Writing, finishing that baby blanket for my newest little cousin that I should have had done over a month ago, finally mopping my kitchen floor. Maybe, if I have time, paint a picture.
Time is still in short supply. There’s never enough of it in a given day to get everything done. My government is still a garbage fire that wants to revoke my status as Equal Human Citizen. My mom still needs that second surgery to correct the issue with her hip replacement and is still in so much pain that her mind occasionally goes loopsadaisy and that scares us both. But right now, in this moment, things are as okay as they can get and I actually have some energy to get some things done. So it’s time to take advantage of that the best way I can. Because I know it won’t last.
Sometimes these good days come and I almost dread them because they won’t last, but this is one of the hardest lessons I’ve learned in living with my mental health issues. The good days don’t last, so you have to grab them by the horns and use them to the fullest when they do come.