Finding time to be grateful.

I attempt to be transparent.

It isn’t always easy because we all possess “secret places;” those spaces we don’t reveal; too embarrassed or ashamed to admit out loud. Like you, I have a firm moral center; therefore my “dark places” are not deep black, more appropriately they are shades of grey. Who knows, if I let them loose to be washed in open sunlight, I might learn they’re simply “off-white.”

That belies the issue: I’m not proud of them.

That’s part of the human condition; none of us have achieved absolute self-acceptance. Sure, we don a strong veneer, and generally, we’re pretty good about keeping in place our mask. Yet, it’s still one foot in front of the other on the road to self-acceptance, occasionally stumbling in potholes.

Lately, I’ve been in a funk.

It originates when I wake up with foggy, upsetting recollections of distressing dreams. Although they evaporate with the morning light, an unsettling, discomforting residual coating on my psyche remains. The day commences with me drained, overwhelmed, and leery of what may come. In effect, my attitude “sucks,” which is unlike me.

We all go experience that, passing it off to “one of those days,” or a “rough patch.” But when does it become “normal,” and one realizes you’re no longer who you were, but rather who you have become?

One thing leads to another, and I end up attempting to enhance my outlook by falling back on an old habit — for me, that’s eating. Logically, will it help? No, of course not. But it has nothing to do with rationality when you’re stuffing granola bars in your pie hole at 11 PM. That is naked raw jagged emotion; I’m “medicating,” pure and simple.

Medications have side effects.

In this instance, it’s weight gain. When I gain weight — especially self-induced — I become depressed. When that happens, I seek more “treatment,” leading to more pounds, which…  Well, you see the cycle.

Should this be happening to someone seeking my counsel, I’d ask, “What precipitated this change in behavior? When did it start?”

My answer: October 25, the day I was hit by the car while riding my bike.

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