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On Being Sad.

I’m not often sad. And because I so rarely feel sad, it’s not an emotion I deal with well. When I’m sad, I feel like no one in the history of human kind has ever been sadder than me.

When I feel sad, I want to tell everyone why. I want each person to listen carefully and then say the magic words that will instantly make me feel better. When I hear those words, I want to take them and find a way to capture them so that I can re-visit them anytime I need. I want to know that if I do this enough, eventually I’ll find my way back to  center. But nice words are only a temporary fix. Happiness has to come from within. I know that. 

Last week, I received every possible sign from the universe that I am going to be okay. I’m talking an extra $20 in an ATM machine when I was worried about money. An anonymous comment on a story I wrote that I needed to write a book, when I was feeling like that was nothing but a pipe dream. A friend that called me out of the blue and asked to do brunch, when I felt like there is no way that my world could ever expand again. And those were just three things. There were so many more. I can’t think of a single extra thing that could have happened to let me know I’ll be okay, and yet the minute those signs went away, I felt this crushing pain in my chest and I couldn’t remember how happy I’d been just a few days ago.

I know life isn’t easy. I know hard choices are just that. I know that you have to go out and make the life you want; no one is going to just hand it to you. I’ve been in this spot before and I’ve climbed my way out. I know the work it takes. And yet, I’m impatient because the knowing doesn’t help when you’re still in the middle. It doesn’t help when there is so much left to be figured out. 

The only saving grace is that I know things now that I didn’t know then. Like how you just put one foot in front of the other.  How you wake up every day and promise yourself that you’re going to do the best you can. That you put a smile on your face, even when it’s the last thing you feel like doing.

And then you go from there.

Filed under lia lobello writing

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