Today I only slept 10 hours. Yesterday I slept 18.
Today I gave myself a sponge bath (a shower was too much), got dressed, combed my hair. Yesterday I spent the day in my nightgown, unwashed, uncombed.
Today I ate something of nutritional value. Yesterday I binged.
Today I looked for a job and organized my craft supplies. Yesterday I spent the day in bed.
Today I can write. Yesterday I could not.
Today my brain is clear and my thoughts move quickly. Yesterday my brain was full of gross, green pond scum. My thoughts got stuck, dug trenches, grew poisonous roots.
Today I challenged my negative thoughts and attempted to reframe them. Yesterday I fell into the negativity abyss.
Today I can smile (but not grin). If someone calls, I can fake normalcy. Yesterday I could not speak.
Today I can feel. If it is funny, I can laugh (but not giggle). If it is sad, I can cry. Yesterday I was numb.
Today I can dream, I can plan (but not do), I can think. Yesterday I had nightmares, sludged through the day, could not think.
Today I have hope. Hope that tomorrow will be better. Perhaps tomorrow I will have enough energy to shower, to go for a walk, to be productive. Maybe tomorrow will be a day when I can grin and giggle, laugh and cry, dance and see the beauty of the world.
Tomorrow will probably not be great. Great is too much to ask for. Great days are days of belly laughs and happy tears, children and cats, blue skies and warm sunshine, unsolicited hugs and gentle kisses. Great days have boundless energy, completed projects, gainful employment. Great days are out of my reach.
Today I have hope that tomorrow will be good, not great but good. Because today was better than yesterday.
This post is a part my pledge of commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. Please click here for more information about this pledge.
Blessings to you all.