Something good for once

    I’ve blogged before about my depression and anxiety.  In early April, I went to my doctor for a check-in about my medicine, and at that time things still weren’t that good.  She told me it was probably time to go to a therapist, and she gave me some names.
    I never called them.  I meant to.  I had highlighted the ones that took my insurance and told myself I’d do it on my late day, before I went in to work.
    But I weirdly started to feel really good.  I still can’t pinpoint what changed, and I’ve kind of decided to stop trying to figure it out.  Whatever it is, I’m glad it happened.  Of course, I’m a person, and I still have bad moments and bad days, and I’m still sad and panicky and upset, but by and large I’ve felt great the last few months.
    I’ve never been an outside person.  I got hot easily, I burned easily, and the heat and brightness gave me headaches.  I still get hot and burn, but I don’t get headaches anymore.  The breeze and the sounds and smells of outside are worth the heat and the need to wear sunscreen.
    It was always hard for me to make and keep plans.  Whenever it got to the actual day of the plans, I’d get nervous, and half the time I’d end up cancelling them.  The other half I’d go out, but be nervous the entire time.  Lately, though, I want to do all the things.  I want to go to trivia and dances and shows and fun dinners.  I want to make positive memories with my friends.
    I’ve always been self-conscious about my body.  I internalized a lot of Western beauty standards.  My face was never pretty enough.  My smile was never symmetrical enough.  There was too much fat in too many places on my body.  The least I could do to make myself more bearable to look at was shave my legs.  I did an experiment in the Fall where I stopped shaving my legs, to see how long I could go without being annoyed by it.  I ended up shaving them in late February in an attempt to impress someone (it didn’t really work), and I haven’t shaved them since.
    You know what I’ve found?  No one noticed.  Only people that I told about my shaving strike noticed my legs at all.  I’d also read many times before that we see ourselves as less attractive than we are.  Somehow, it just clicked with me.  Sure, I don’t think I’m anything to write home about, but I’ve stopped worrying about what I see in the mirror and started just thinking about how I feel.  I own a fair number of rompers and jumpsuits now, which are two styles of clothing I wouldn’t be caught dead in for fear of looking chubby.  But who cares?  I feel good in them, and my friends think I look good in them, so fuck everyone else.  Those who mind don’t matter, and those who matter don’t mind.
    Another thing I’ve had trouble with for a long time is trust.  No one recently has done anything to warrant me being suspicious of them, but past bad experiences have made me naturally distrustful.  This has made me act clingy and ask ridiculous questions.  This is something that also clicked with me lately.  I’ve taken care for the last four or so years to surround myself with trustworthy people, and it’s finally sunken in.  No one that I’ve gotten close to since I left the bad relationship is lying to me.  Every one of them wants to be around me.  None of them are talking to me or hanging out with me because they feel bad.  I’ve also been able to internalize the fact that not everyone shows affection in the same way.  Just because someone doesn’t message me the amount I want them to doesn’t mean they don’t like me.  It just means they don’t message very much.
    I hope that this isn’t temporary.  I hope that I stay a happy, confident, out-in-public person.  I have a sneaking suspicion that one day I’ll wake up and have snapped back into my old personality.  I’ll go back to being a nervous wreck and a Debbie Downer.  But until then, I want to be outside feeling pretty and enjoying my friends!