Hindsight is more than 20/20. It's like Superman vision.

It's interesting. In November I felt that I could once again reassemble myself to the full glory of completeness. Getting my footing back has certainly made headway for that progress, I'm pleased to announce. I can't express properly the delight I arrive at now when I feel myself becoming excited about doing things that in the past couple years I felt I could do with or without. The indifference hung over me like a saturated cloud ready to burst, but now the brisk breeze of pleasure is gently ushering it away. At the time, I didn't really see what was going on. I just knew that a part of me was taking a nap, all curled up in a warm duvet with 600 thread count sheets, and wasn't so keen on waking up. No one offered to wake me up for dinner though. A mild tap on the shoulder here and there, but nothing to really rouse me. I slept way past midnight. I remember saying to my close friends "I think I've lost my funny." I kept feeling that way but wasn't so sure what to do about it. That should have been my red flag. They still laughed at my jokes and my silly antics, because, let's be honest here, I'm always funny, though sometimes to a much lesser degree. Their laughter was, and will always be music in my soul. It helps to keep me going. I kind of felt like I was just going through the motions of my life. But I did not ever address the worry. I just kept going and told myself I'd get myself back on track. Perhaps I hid things pretty well too. Smiling when I should, laughing as I could, and running away every chance I had to not draw attention. And then November came. I finally realized I needed to do something. I don't really know if anyone gets it, if anyone understands that collecting myself and being on my own again and having all of my things in the land of Melissa put in the right spots makes me feel good, makes me feel like me. But it does. Notably, the first three months of this year were hilarious and fun. I know that I would not have been able to enjoy myself quite so much if I hadn't realized last fall that I needed to collect myself up and put me back together. Regardless of anything, I am just so happy to know that I was me, one hundred percent me, for the first time in a long time. That is what I call progress. That is the glue that is binding me together. Knowing that I still exist. *Apologies for the serious and cryptic nature of this post. Very out of the ordinary, I know! *Son of a crap! Why won't this format into proper paragraphs!!!! Pfft. Here I felt all nice and mellow from writing this post, and now the anger of poor formatting makes my blood boil!!!! Kidding. Mostly... ;)