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?
Survive til you Thrive!