tired
tryna think about what to write about all day, and finally it’s hit me.
i’m tired.
i am physically worn-out. i am in need of sleep. i feel like my heart has gotten more good exercise in the last few weeks than it’s had in the last year and expanded several sizes, and it’s great but it’s work too.
for once: what i’m not is tired of life.
i am joyful. i am experimenting with joy, and the results are more wonderful than i had imagined they could be.
my legs are cramping if i so much as pull on my calves even a little bit. my arms feel weak. my hands feel strained from carrying grocery bags. there’s a part of my body which is just the slightest bit ache-y which hasn’t been like that in a long time. these aches are good. they’re satisfying; like they attend a feeling of accomplishment.
my head has that heaviness that suggests lying down will result in sleep seconds later — a really delightful heaviness, to be sure, for someone who barely managed catnaps.
with coming down from hypomania i feel like my emotional range has actually expanded. euphoria at the world and existing is wonderful and enjoyable. it feels great. but having those feelings — and even stronger! — without an altered mood state? just because the events that are happening are really that intense? that they resonate with who i am and what i want that deeply, and aren’t simply riffing off of an episode?
— and this is not to discount my feelings while hypomanic. but seeing the world as it is when i’m more me and less an altered me is where i want to be. —
i’m tired, and i’m so ready for tomorrow.