I sit here on a warm Saturday night, ready to go to bed already and it’s only 9:00pm.
I’ve been contemplating deleting my last two “personal” entries. But part of me doesn’t want to ignore the fact that I felt those feelings so strongly. I didn’t feel anything else [at the time]; I just felt anger and abandonment. It was so real and nothing else mattered.
My family and I have agreed on a way to settle this dispute and I will be going with them for my dad’s 50th. It seems so odd that it was such an easy fix that took less than 12 hours. I didn’t see that at the time of the blog entry. The feeling felt permanent, like nothing would ever change it and I would be stuck with it until the specific dates [of the trip] passed.
I still feel angry, but I don’t want to. I shouldn’t. We’ve come to an agreement, I am now going with them, and I will have fun. It has been an extremely long time since we’ve gotten together and taken a trip like this. I am beyond excited.
This always happens after my moods make such an extreme shift. I ponder for a while about why I couldn’t see the shades in between – I just saw the black and the white shades. Sometimes it doesn’t even seem like me when I look back.
I can sit here and constantly ask “why?”…but I wouldn’t even be able to accept the answer to that question if I were given it. That I am sure of.
My sincerest appreciation to you for taking the time to read my entry/entries. If I can incite happiness and/or hope in just 1 person’s life, that is enough. There is a stigma against mental illness. That it has a certain face or feature. It doesn’t.