Post script

Before I even get started writing this post, I should mention that I just got home from having drinks with a couple of girlfriends.  I’m trying to think of a clever way to phrase it, but words are eluding me.  I’m tipsy, folks.

At one point in the evening, my friend looked across the table at me and said “You seem sad.  Are you ok?”

I waved off the question.  I’m fine.  But I got very in my head about it.

In my mind, I thought I was ok.  I assumed I was acting like my normal self.  The music was bar level, which means many levels too loud for suitable conversation.  This was a sports bar, so televisions had been mounted to every available surface.  I’m surprised they didn’t mount televisions to our foreheads upon entering.  The waitresses wore those kind of tank tops that could also be used for a handkerchief since they were about the same size.  Many men came to the bar seemingly in need of a handkerchief.  So I guess what I’m saying is there was a lot going on to distract me.

When my friend asked “are you ok?” I began to ponder the question.  Did I not seem ok?  Am I ok?  Am I just distracted?  Or is there something within my personality that will never be right again?  Will I always seem a bit off?  I used to be known as a bit of a party girl, the jackass who said or did the outrageous thing you shouldn’t say or do.  Is that person gone?   Maybe.  Is that for the best?  Maybe.  Will there be a time when Chris’s death does not hang over me?  I don’t know.

I have started taking my antidepressants again.  A much smaller dose to be sure, but I have started.  After blogging about stopping them a few months ago, I feel like it would be irresponsible not to admit that I am back on them.  I could write a diatribe about it, but the bottom line is I just don’t want to be sad anymore.  Not a cry for help, just an honest statement and an admission that whatever I have been doing was not enough.  I gave it a good run, but I need more.  I want to be happy.

I actually am happier than I have been in recent times.  Maybe it just doesn’t come through as loudly to everyone else.  As much as my writing may not reflect it, I am doing better.

One really beautiful thing happened.  Well, lots of things, but I will tell you about one.

After the story with the blue doors, a friend sent me a text.  If you don’t know what I am referring too, read these posts:

https://yourmamasallwrite.wordpress.com/2016/04/12/today-i-wrote-this-story-because-i-guess-i-have-to-write/

https://yourmamasallwrite.wordpress.com/2016/04/18/yes-kathleen-the-doors-are-painted-blue/

I left a copy of the stories, along with a painted rock, in the mailbox of the owners of the “Curb Appeal House.”  I was very nervous to do this.  I didn’t want these people to think I was some sort of stalker noticing every small change to the exterior of their home.  But I pushed those feelings aside and left the stories and the rocks for them.  I just thought they should know this thing they did with the doors, painting them, had an impact on me.

My friend lives in the same area as the Curb Appeal House, and frequents a website for that neighborhood.  The owner of the house posted a message to that website.

She wrote that she read my story and was moved by my generosity in acknowledging how much the act of painting the doors meant to me.

She went on to write a very loving tribute to her husband for being the one who came up with the idea of painting the doors to add a playful suspense to the neighborhood.  She described how much she loved his creative spirit and was further reminded through my story that she had chosen the right partner.

Those moments, when you take a chance and put yourself out there, and someone responds- those are the ones that make you keep doing whatever it is that you love.  I have never met these people.  Never spoken to them.  Never even shared a wave.  But we still made this connection.  Something they did mattered to me.  Something I wrote meant something to them.  I wish I could write something  really powerful to describe how validated I felt, but I’m not sure what the words would be.  It made me really happy.  I think most of the time, all we really need is to feel like we are heard, and that our feelings are valued.  I got to experience both of those things.

It’s late.  I have no idea how to end this thing.  But I am grateful for today, and looking forward to tomorrow.

Be kind.  To yourself and others.  Love more.  That’s all that there is.

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