One of those days...

"You know what I do when I'm feeling sad? I stop feeling sad and feel awesome instead. True story."

You wake up and it feels like you weigh a million tons. 

You are iron and the bed is a sheet of magnet.  It feels like you're shackled to the mattress and headboard with heavy chains. 

You try and try to literally pry yourself inch by inch from out under your sheets but like a nightmare you don't move at all and somehow you're physically exhausted, even after the eight hours of uninterrupted sleep you just had.

Then as the alarm continues its insanity-inducing chime from the table across the room, you have to play this game with yourself, Na Against Mind 2.0.

You have to trick your mind into thinking you have some superhuman strength and you can pry away from the magnetic force of your bed, unshackle the chains, get out from under the warm sheets where your dog who normally wakes you up every morning at the same time with her annoying whining and persistance decides to stay rolled up and warm, cradled in your nook.  And even though you want to stay shackled to this bed forever, you have to play the game. 

As you play this game with yourself, you start falling back into a semi-conscious state of mind, half asleep and dreaming and half awake.  So that sometimes when you think you've already won the game, that you easily plucked yourself up from your once magnetized bed (it wasnt that hard afterall) and is already in the shower starting your day, you start looking at your hands, arms, and body and nothing is sensitized.  That's when it hits you.  Still in your dream, you realize that you're not really awake after all, so you stand there in the shower thats only a dream and you force your mind to wake you up! You plead with yourself, you try to physically hurt yourself, mutilate your dreamself, scratch at your arms, kick at legs, until finally, you jerk awake!  Then your heart is racing a little from the crazy dreamfight you just had with yourself.  You wake up in the bed and instead of the million tons of iron that you feel and the heavy wrought iron chains encompassing you, all you feel is sadness.

You get out of bed.  There is no morning sun, no glowing rays of light resting on your bedsheet because the sun is masked behind an overcast sky, the air is a bit dank from last night's rain, and everything outside looks soggy and gross.  It's what a morning would look like after a severe episode of PMS by Mother Nature.  Then you go shower hoping the steam and hot water dancing on your skin would make everything all right again, but the light switch doesn't turn on because the bulb must be burnt out but you don't know how to fix it because its really high up there in the ceiling and you're just not up for playing charades with the landlord this morning so you take a shower in the dark and feel around for the shampoo and soap and think to yourself that at least one good thing comes from such a small bathroom. 

***

I want to say this is how my Monday started off, which is true, but it is also how my Saturday and Sunday began as well.  I was glued to my bed.  I managed to get up on Saturday for a run, but staying on the same theme of Na And Bad Days, my shin splints which I have been ignoring during my runs for the past week, reared its ugly painful head and I nearly collapsed half way through my route.  I tried to walk it off, which normally works, and then start again, but my right shin was swollen and I limped back home.  I normally get a satisfactory high off of running my daily route, but then I injured myself and that is taken away.  It seems when you're in one of those moods and everything that normally makes you smile like the sun in the sky, a hot shower in the morning, and a run in the afternoon is all taken away.   Nothing goes right.

***

There is something everyone needs to know about me. 
I hate being sad.  I hate people who are sad.  I hate things that look sad, animals or objects, or days of the week, headlines in the paper, scary trailers about hunted dolphins, anything that emanates sadness.  I like to bask in naivety and innocence, in tail-wagging four legged dogs, and kisses from my kitten, in happy romances in books, and in my student's smiles.

If I can quote Barney Stinson: "You know what I do when I'm feeling sad? I stop feeling sad and feel awesome instead. True story."
Thats what I do.  I love being happy, but sometimes you're just sad. And you wait for it to pass because that's the only thing you can do. 

What' the worst kind of sadness?  Its the causeless kind.  Maybe girls only have it, but its when you feel so low, so down on yourself and you have no fucken idea why.  That's the worst kind.

I really empathize with clinically depressed people. To feel this way all the time, like your drowning in despair and getting out of bed is a battle of willpower every morning, that must be hell. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cPoDIhTRo1k

Sometimes you just need a hug.