i'm not done yet

Five full weeks, Monday through Friday.

Three part time weeks; working two days, and program the remainder.

I had thought i was ready to return to work part time. The plan was to do it slowly, adding an additional work day each week.


That was not the case.


Last Wednesday, i realized i had only completed one of my treatment goals. i can identify my feelings. Christ, i'm 45 years old and i am just learning that skill.


When i am positively medicated (my term for day time meds ... Vistaril and now Wellbutrin), my mind races, looking for that hidden lurking feeling. It finds sad a lot. It finds anger, and sometimes at the bottom of the precipice it finds scared.


It doesn't find happy, because i've forgotten what happy is and what makes me happy.

i can describe happy as feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudless day, when the sky is as blue as carribean waters.

i can describe happy as warm liquid caramel in the perfect ratio with milk chocolate just before it starts to melt in your mouth.

i can describe happy as a song that tickles your soul into forgetting who you are, how you feel, and cause you to drop your inhibitions and skip and dance and twirl.

i can describe happy as a bunch of perfect Pepto Bismol-colored pink tulips with their sturdy monochrome stems trimmed the same length and each leaf providing a contrasting highlight of the smoothness of the petals and stems.


But i can't find happy because i don't know what makes me happy.

i bought an ipod touch and i am working on finding some joy through music.

i savor every time punkin or peanut says, "I love you," or the moments they hold my hand.

i realized i lost myself.