So, I find myself in a strange place in my life where I walk around and think to myself, Gee, this place is strange. I’m serious. Okay, not completely serious, but maybe serious in a strange and slightly unserious sort of way.
I also walk around and wonder, What the heck, Christina? Aren’t you supposed to have gone through this when you were like, I don’t know, fourteen? You know, instead of now when you’re, like, many, many times that?
And when did you, self, start using the word like so much?
Uh oh, I’m having a full-fledged conversation with myself and I really don’t think we’re getting much accomplished, and on a certain level that’s a bit disturbing.
Anyway, let me move along before I digress again and start explaining how I exploded a cup of coffee in the kitchen and it was a mess everywhere!
So, I think like I’m in the middle of a full-fledged transformation of some kind (and when did I start using the term full-fledged all the time?). See? That’s what I mean. I’ve been through countless transformations in my life, some of which people know about and some of which, well, not so many know about, as in, like just a few.
The thing with this change is that I’ve no idea where it came from or where it’s going, but I do kinda like it because it’s sorta fun and I like fun even though I’m an introvert (*clears throat* an INFJ brand of extroverted introvert, Christina, there’s a difference).
Okay, all right, so what’s this transformation all about? I have no idea. I just know it’s like everywhere. Maybe it started with the map or creating Pannulus or Vistanna and shadows and gender spirits and YA writing? No idea. Transformation is a key word, I know that, but aren’t we all transforming? Well, yeah, but some of us transform more than others, I hear a Disney character who never existed say.
And, oh wow, did I transform…
Supposedly I was just about the happiest baby there ever was. Smiling. Laughing. Marveling at the life I almost didn’t have. I was sickly and thin and didn’t care because, well, I don’t remember because I was just a baby.
That, of course, was before all the really bad stuff started happening.
Okay, for the record, the bad stuff was already happening around me, but I was too young to realize it. When I did realize it, and when I realized some of it was happening to me I kinda freaked, all the more so because I tend to be empathetic and absorb, well, everything.
So, in the end (and, of my gosh, I hope this is the end because I’m rambling), I’m wondering if maybe I’ve somehow come full circle and crashed headlong into the blind positivity that was central to my much younger self? Or is this a high from too much coffee and I’m going to convulse on the floor and realize gee, nice, quaint idea, Christina, but at your core you’re still prone to being depressed … better get over this.
(For the record, that’s bad self talk.)
But what if I don’t want to get over this? What if, more than anything in the world, I want to grab this fledgling happiness and nurture it so it might one day grow up to be a full grown happiness? What if I have the opportunity to embrace it instead of all the depression left at my door?
After decades, is this my opportunity to walk the true happiness road?
Maybe, just maybe, if I had enough happiness I could start handing it out like treats at Halloween and it might spread until I’d open my door and there’d be happiness sent by others and more others would do the same and then it’d be everywhere and I’d sigh and spin in a meadow in a lovely dress…
But then, Hope says, It’s something to think about.