Thursday, May 2, 2019

Sunday Sadday

Sunday was a bad day for me. I woke up sad and despondent for no good reason, and sort of stayed that way all day. I kept trying to bust out of my funk, but nothing seemed to work. I searched around for what I was sad about and couldn't really find anything specific. I was sad about everything. 

I hated my writing and labelled all my successes as a sham, I was sad about my kids being out on their own, I didn't like my house, I hated the weather, felt bad about my aging pets and was even sad that I was still a ways from retirement. I hated everything.

Like I said, I was in a funk. And I never get in funks.

There were a few times during the day I was near tears. For no reason! What the hell is that all about?

Sundays, especially near the evening, are typically the worst day of the week anyway, so this was not a complete surprise. There is the looming Monday morning rat race gun that creates an angst that isn't there the other days of the week. That certainly played a role, but what was weird was the fact that I had NOTHING to be sad about. I have about the best life going a person my age could hope for. 

I have a forever wife, two amazing kids, a job I love, a house, a loving extended family and friends that I would kill for. So, why do I feel like a blanket of despair is over me? Why so sad?

The answer is, I don't know. I chalked it up to "well, these things happen once in a while."

At the same time, there was part of me that knew it was only a temporary state. I am too positive a person to let that kind of thing linger. I knew Monday would be better - as much as that sounds like an contradiction in terms.

And to be truthful, it was. It started a little like a Monday, but got significantly better as the day went on. It piqued with serving the guys at the Guest House, the high point of my day. A bit of advice: If you are ever feeling sorry for yourself, serve dinner to a bunch of guys in transitional housing once. It is an instant attitude adjustment.  

The whole sadness experience made me realize how fortunate I am to never have struggled with depression. I know people who have and I feel for them. I can't imagine being that way for more than one day, let alone so despair filled you can't get out of bed. What a horribly debilitating affliction. 

The good news is I had a decent week. Every day has it's ups and downs, but I have a sort of happiness middle ground line that I walk most of the time. It is my healthy place and I aim to keep walking it. 

Because the other end of that spectrum sucked. It's not me and hopefully never will be.

Blogging off...(Happily)

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