Coming out of sad

Every year I'm amazed anew at how real Seasonal Affective Disorder is and the affects it actually has one me. But that's not necessarily what this is about. That's not really what I mean. What do I mean? I've been in a cloud. A deep, dark cloud. And I may very well still be on the way out of it, but there's at least a light at the end of the tunnel. If your'e paying attention to the metaphors, yes there's a tunnel in the cloud. What?

It's been a long road and it's been a long time coming. What do we really know about ourselves when we're young? In my case, nothing. I was scared of who I was or who I thought I was. Maybe I never really gave it much of a shot to find out. I will say that I have always been my own person, I'm not much of a follower or a joiner. That said, I wasn't brave enough to be me. Ain't that a kick in the head? Why did I spend so much time just not being?

I started going to therapy... maybe three years ago? Maybe. One of the first questions the therapist had for me was, "Who is Sara?" I was stumped. Fucking stumped. Which is ridiculous. I think I started telling her about where I was from or some nonsense. It's a tough question though. Can you succinctly define yourself? I couldn't. I wonder if I can now.

Who is Sara? Sara is (I definitely just paused because it's still a hard question because once it's out there, IT'S OUT THERE) kind, genuine, giving, loyal, creative, accidentally offensive, somewhat jaded and quietly judgmental, for better or worse, til death do she part. She's an artist, a musician, a writer, a cheese snob, beer connoisseur, animal lover, a gardener, a dancer, a prancer, a runner and a traveler. And she's clearly a fan of writing in the third person.

Not to brag or anything, but I'm pretty awesome.

So back to it. What was I coming out of? (NOTE: I really hate how many sentences I've ended in a preposition, but I haven't changed any of them.) I was coming out of the dark. Yes, I'm aware it was a cloud. It was a dark cloud. I wasn't paying attention to ME. I spent so much - heck, let's face it - I spent all of my life focusing on other people. I was trying to fix everything around me, but me. And I fell apart. I lost focus of me. I lost me.

I can't blame anyone else. I mean I can, but I don't want to. I could blame my parents if we went back to the beginning. I could blame a string of boyfriends bringing things up to date. But at the end, you are responsible for you, I am responsible for me. I've made some decisions I wish I hadn't - but that's not to say I regret them. That's just to say that I wish Present Sara could go back in time and talk some sense into Past Sara.


I'm working hard to focus on me. I'm working hard to create a life for me. It's ridiculous what has happened to me in the past when I've been with other people - I plan our  life and not my life. Which, while that is important at some point, I firmly believe that you have to put yourself first in so many ways. Saves from a world of hurt, resentment, confusion, loss, anger, sadness and probably constipation.

I don't know where to go from here. I don't know what's around the corner. I'm still holding out hope (who couldn't at 32) that I'll magically meet someone who completes my life and we can conquer the world side by side. But for now, as all I can control is me and my life, I am all I can focus on. I am all I need to focus on.

I may or may not just be giving myself a pep talk at this point. Give me an S?

I shit you not, Adele's "Hello" just came on. Ugh.

I guess I'm done for now.