As I leave work each day I have been reveling in the beauty of the sun. Seeing it higher and higher in the sky as the days pass is a symphony. It is fine dining, it is a pile of wriggling puppies, it is a warm hug and it is the nicest wine I’ve ever had.
The days are getting longer and winter is slowly coming to a close, and I am feeling it in my bones. I want to be out there, feeling the sun on me. I want hours of daylight after work has ended. Sensing that those days are coming soon is causing my soul to lighten.
I am allowing myself the wallowing of this winter. It would feel wrong and inauthentic to try to resist it. This is where I am now; this is what I need. These long hours of solitude spent curled up with my cats is what my body wants of me.
Yet lately, for the first time in over a year, I’ve been craving a run. It is a beautiful feeling, this desire to be outdoors and to use my body in this way once again. I long to feel the ground slapping against the soles of my sneakers rhythmically. I want to race through woods, dodging tree roots and huffing up inclines, soaring down the declines as they become available.
Simply wanting this is a glorious feeling. It feels optimistic, to want this. It feels like my body telling me this time of feeling down is almost over. When the days get longer it will end. This time of being a recluse, of being afraid to live, will be gone.
I crave longer days and sunshine. I crave long evenings of daylight to do with as I please. I crave using my muscles and I crave the triumphant feel of soreness and sun warmed skin.
I feel a reawakening occurring and I welcome it. I am happy with the idea that my shroud of sadness will soon be cast off. I enjoy the image of myself running freely in the sunshine without shame or doubt.
I will do it this year. Last year I wasn’t ready. Last year I was too recently deep in the trenches of warfare. This year I am not. This year I will have been on my own for over a year. This year all my memories of the year before will be happy ones. The bad times recede further and further into the past and I move forward.
Summer this year will be a joyous one. I will encourage and attend more barbecues. I will float on the river. I will run regularly. I will attend happy hours at bars chosen solely because they have picnic benches on the sidewalk out front. I will do all the things I used to enjoy and I will live.
I am done with being sad. I am frustrated and ready to fight. Depression has been my master for long enough.