AJ and a LATTE

I wonder why we have blue days?  It is lovely outside.  I have my best dogs and my crochet at hand.  It is a great Saturday.  We have a couple of different engagements this evening and leave on vacation tomorrow.  But why am I feeling melancholy?  

My first stop, just knowing myself, is to ask if it is medicinal.  I have always been open with the fact that I struggle with anxiety driven depression.  The doctor who delivered Keelan was my absolute hero before and after his birth. He had enough training in the world of brain chemistry that we found the perfect pharmaceutical pathway to keep me healthy.  Years later, I am with a general practitioner who is also extremely well-versed in the area.  She has tweaked my regiment as I have aged and hormones have changed.  I share this not to garner attention but to validate those who walk the same walk.  Mental health, while less taboo than in previous eras, is still a no-no to discuss.  It is often weaponized and used for gossip fodder.  As with all of the other situations in my life, I am opening up to attempt to in a way normalize the path.  Perhaps someone is struggling but doesn’t want to speak up because that means something is “wrong with them.”  To that I say:  if you can’t see, you get glasses; if you have diabetes, you take insulin.  This is chemistry in your brain.  It isn’t something of which to be ashamed, but it is an area just like all of the others in the realm of healthcare that deserves attention.  So back to my initial assessment, meds are good, so that is not the catalyst for my melancholy.

The next depot on my melancholy quest is to look at situations surrounding me.  To no one’s surprise, I assess the squabble my poor spouse and I had last night.  He knew he was marrying a spitfire when he picked me.  Was the argument all my fault?  No.  Did I let it go once the matter was settled?  Of course not!  Did that make the situation my fault…well, yeah.  Did we go to bed tiptoeing around each other like two dogs who had been circling each other around the food bowl?  Yep.  Did we wake up a little afraid to speak to each other for fear of getting bitten?  Again, yep.  Is it all going to be okay?  Of course it will.  Again, he knew the hot mess he was getting when he said the “I do’s.”  I got my mad out and had my tantrum, so that isn’t the issue… so I look at other areas that are a bit “wonky” (great, totally underused word in the English language!).  There is some discontent in a relationship in my life that has weighed very heavily on my heart.  As I assess step-by-step my mood, I’m sure this does have a home in it.  Someone I cherished very deeply has decided I am the enemy.  Every step I take is scrutinized and in many ways villainized.  I’m not really sure why this drastic shift happened, but to maintain my personal boundaries, I have given the relationship space.  I have made some necessary changes to avoid undue contact and done my best to not add fuel to the already combustible situation.  It seems like the further I remove myself, the more critical the other party gets, but I am at a place in my life that I don’t want to fight those battles anymore.  I am ready to surround myself with peace and am so tired of always “meeting the battle head-on.”  I have always been a closet people-pleaser, but I know I can’t make everyone happy.  I wish I knew what happened to cause such a rift in this relationship, but at this point, I go back to something my counselor said:  to my knowledge I didn’t cause it, I can’t change it, and I can’t cure it, so I am going to move forward and just hope it works itself out.  I grieve over the loss.  I probably always will.

So, there is one part of the melancholy mood, but from where is the rest stemming?  Maybe it is fatigue.  Maybe it is looking back over the years and seeing things I would like to change. Maybe it is just “one of those days.”  I wish I had a magic button to push to clear out those cobwebs and have a bright and shiny disposition, but perhaps there is a reason for my blues.  I think I will sit and ponder for a bit before I pick myself up by the bootstraps, put on the warpaint (makeup), and get ready for the evening’s festivities.  There must be something in “the feels” that I am meant to examine, or my psyche wouldn’t have raised the flag.  Armed with my crochet needle, iced coffee in hand, I’ll stitch a few squares and just sit with my feelings.  I know in my faith that I do not sit alone.  Perhaps there is a lesson to be learned in my melancholy state that I have glossed over, so He wants me to sit with Him and let Him work on me.  

So, as I prepare to sit, think, deliberate, I rejoice knowing that it is a time of reflection and hopefully rejuvenation.  May you welcome those moments as they come to you as well.  Perhaps there are beautiful lessons to be learned.  

Until next time…