Well, it's been 7 months since my last post, my "rock bottom." While I'm glad to say I'm in a much better place now, I am still a work in progress. Thanks to the magic of medication, my emotions are much more balanced than they were. I still feel a lot, but I feel at a normal intensity rather than the screaming, pounding intensity that wouldn't let me get out of bed and face the world. I'm seeing a therapist, even though I REALLY don't want to, and even though I've seen no benefit of it yet. I'm willing to try.
In some ways, I'm a walking paradox. I feel hopeful, yet hopeless at the same time. While I'm getting very impatient waiting for Mr. Right and the job of my dreams to finally open the door and invite me in, I somehow have a much more positive outlook than is typical of me. Sure, I wallow sometimes. Sure, I'm kind of bitter. And, sure, there are some days when I just want to throw in the towel and give up. But at the end of the day, I'm fighting it. And that's huge. A friend of mine calls that alter ego of mine,(that evil, self-destructive, and angry chick) Carcie. She still tries to take over sometimes. But, somehow I guess I'm stronger. Because I'm fighting her and I'm winning. Some days it's tough. Like, really tough. But, so am I.
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