I think back to one year ago, when things were darker, but I managed. I told myself so many times that "I will get through this, and I will improve." But like any resolution, it went unresolved. I am a stickler for self-improvement, but mine seemed to be a slow, painful process. There is something truly liberating, however, in the conversation that preceded the end of the year.
The same thoughts that kept me up for hours for the past few years were released from their cage. I felt something--the pressure softly lifting from my chest. I could breathe.
"So, I'm not crazy?" I asked.
"Of course not," she said. She was a very friendly woman, and I owe her a great deal.
And then I was left on my own, to think again--to consider the possibility that I'm not crazy, but I can't suppress everything. I need to feel, and I'll never be okay until I give myself time to feel. It's ironic, how sensitive I can be and how unwilling to be embarrassed by those emotions I claim to be, and yet how much I held back. And now, here I am dealing with all of the things I put off for so long, and it feels nice. Even through the tears, I feel free--free to feel it all and free to make a change for myself. Why did I allow myself to hold back so much pain?
I'm just one step closer to saying I am 100-percent happy.