I thought about yesterday’s post at least a dozen times today … and a dozen times, I almost logged in to delete it.
In my quest for openness and authenticity, I sometimes get carried away and tell you oh-so-much more than you want or need to know.
(This is not an online journal, ya know!)
That said, it is a space where I discuss depression and anxiety, among other mental health and self-help-y subjects. So, it’s not the worst thing on earth that I let you into this sometimes-dark, sometimes-bright mind of mine.
How it works: Anxiety is more of a *POW* and then *poof* kinda thing. But depression… oh, depression! It is like the ebb and flow of an ocean… creeping up and then before you know it, you’ve been knocked over and you’re underwater.
This reminds me of a million stories but I’ll keep it at just one.
I was the kid who swam out beyond the swells. I dove beneath the crests of waves and came up on the other side. Sometimes, I floated over the the top.
And then there were the times I wasn’t fast enough and the waves slammed into me, legs and arms flailing everywhere. Up was down and down was up. My face was pushed in the sand below and I felt like my lungs would burst. Just when I thought I’d die from suffocation, I’d somehow gasp for breath as I blasted above the surface.
It was terrifying and exhilarating. I was hooked.
Me and my ocean… I never doubted its power.
Yesterday, I was underwater, flailing.
Today, I am less so. The water is swirling around my waist. I can feel the sun upon my face. I have hope.
The feature photo I’ve shared is from one of my last trips to the beach before I moved to Canada. It is my beloved Pacific… and I miss it so! It wasn’t hot… it was October, which explains the absence of bathing suits and people on the sand. But it was beautiful.
I guess what they say is true: You can take the girl out of California but you can’t take California out of the girl.