What I Miss

There are things I miss.

I miss researching and writing papers.  I had plans to go to graduate school for English Literature.  I had the school picked out.  I even had ideas for my thesis project.  But some things happened and I could not go through with my plan.  I started back up a decade ago in a Business degree, but again life intervened.  Plus, I didn’t want a Business degree.  I wanted an English Literature degree.  But that is not to be.  And I feel like a failure.  I was GOOD at researching and writing papers.  As Fancy Nancy says, “that’s not bragging, it’s true.  Ask anybody.”  I am sad I have lost that skill.

I miss a clean house that stays that way.  I remember before I got married, I would clean my place and not have to do it again for quite a while.  I never ran the dishwasher  And only one of the bathrooms ever got dirty.  Now?  I run the dishwasher daily.  The bathroom is always dirty.  The bedrooms are always a disaster and the kitchen always needs help.  I miss a clean house.

I know I have said this one before, but I miss being able to trust my emotions.  I miss knowing that I can trust my reactions and thoughts about various happenings and interactions.  I miss not needing a bunch of medication to get through the day.  I miss life before Patrice.  Don’t get me wrong, I love that munchkin so very, very much.  But before her, I was ordinary.  I could consistently function in the real world.  I could be a little down without worrying I was headed to hell.  I could be energetic without worrying the high would get too high and the crash would be too low.  I miss my issues being small enough that a Diet Coke could bring me all the comfort I needed.

I miss being a size 2.  So much.  I miss having the self control to lose weight.  I miss looking cute in my clothes.  I miss having only one chin. I miss not feeling frumpy and ugly, always.  I miss being comfortable in my own skin, mentally and physically.

I miss the days that I didn’t know any psychiatrists.  And didn’t have two shelves of medicines.  I miss being dependable.  I miss people trusting me.  I miss doctors trusting me and actually trying to treat physical ailments instead of chalking it up to my Bipolar Disorder.

I miss the days of having a psychiatrist I liked and trusted.  One who gave a damn.  All the others I have ever met just push their agenda or their favorite medications.  None of them want to really hear or understand what my hell looks like.  I miss having insurance that would allow me to see the doctor I like and trust.

I miss having my thoughts make sense.  I miss being able to concentrate on one thought at a time, instead of being bombarded with thoughts that move either too fast through my brain, or fill it up so much I can’t see reality.  I miss stability.

There are so many things I miss.  What do you miss?  What has changed in your life and leaves you wistful?