Anti-DepressionPosted: July 29, 2015
I’m lying in bed, and this feeling is lurking in my chest, waiting to burst out like an alien.
It reminds me of loss and apprehension and anxiety and fear. It reminds me of all the bad things that have ever happened. It reminds me of the monster under the bed, but inside me.
It isn’t any of these things.
It’s the opposite.
I want to laugh and jump and run and scream and have the best time ever!
I keep smiling, just a little one, not a huge grin, a toned-down little smirk, but it keeps happening and that just isn’t me.
I feel like I’ve heard a knock on my door, and when I peek out the blinds, I can see the Publishers Clearing House van and the corner of a gigantic cardboard check. Are those made out of cardboard?
I feel like I did when I won the Listserve. I feel famous and gorgeous and brilliant.
I don’t know why. I just do.
I feel like a dog getting excited over a walk. Like life itself is this simple, everyday thing that everyone else is taking for granted but my reaction is to spin in circles and squeal with joy.
I feel alive.
Not just living, alive. I can understand why the term applies to electricity.
And it’s nice.
Do regular people feel like this all the time?