This is Bullshit

I don't typically walk away from depression better than when I went in. Coming out of the fog is a struggle but you can actually physically feel with it when it begins to lift.
I've been in it for months. The last few days, have been better. Much better. This time, I mentally unraveled a gift that I did not even know I needed to find.
Don't you just get so sick of the cheerful people? The people that talk in bumper stickers. They have a saying that relates to whatever you're feeling. "Hey, Dina! It takes more muscles to frown than it does to smile!" Or, "Hey, Dina! Don't call it a problem! Call it an opportunity!"
And that's how we all live our life. Stay positive! Dismiss any negativity! Turn the lemons in to lemonade! Glass half full! You choose your level of happiness! Okay, so, we do this. All. Fucking. Day. For months and months.
So I say to myself, "I'm not feeling it. I have a lot of questions. I have questions for God." God and I have gone toe to toe on many occasions and I want to know what his take is on my mom.
This is the dialogue to God in my brain when I began to feel depressed. Why has my mom's life sucked? She is your biggest follower. She is the kindest person on the planet. Why was it not in your 'will' to give her one small break in her life when she has devoted her entire life serving you? Why do I look at my mom and it crushes me to she her watch these people on the religious channel who clearly have been given so much, and yet for my mom, you gave her nothing? She prayed and still prays all day long everyday? And she can't get one single break? I don't get it. I look at my mom's hands and think about all the babies she's held, all the hugs she's given to so, so many people. All the dishes and laundry she's done. I can see right now in my head the thousands of times I have seen my mom's hand raised in worship during a Church service.
And I say to God, Really? So she will be rewarded when she gets to heaven? Well that's where me and mom part ways. I want some shit right here on earth. If it is not in your will, you need to do some editing because I want you to lay it down. I want to be chin deep in shit. Chin fucking deep.
When I finish my rant on God then I start with myself. I am stupid. I can't spell. I have been a disappointment to myself and others every single day for 48 years. I'm not funny. My writing sucks. I don't even know how to cook? What am I even doing here? I'm sure there are other people in this house that can do laundry and check the mail.
I roll around in this until I am in small pieces. Until I can't breath. Day after day, for months. Then one day I think, "What if I don't get the answers? And worse! What if I don't get any shit? Then the smaller things come up. What if I really am not funny or a good writer? What if I do suck in general?" Then there is a silence. A calm. A small piece of me processes the information. And with each thing, I think, okay then. Then another thing, that's a drag, but okay. Not funny? There are a lot of unfunny people. Horrible writer? I wouldn't be alone there. What about my mom? Can I accept that I may never have the answer? If I'm going to get out of this bed and put some clothes on, I guess that's my answer. It's not my question to ask. I guess that's between mom and God.
Here is where I discovered the gift. We're all walking around being really super positive and happy. When I became depressed, it was like opening a gate and letting the wild horses loose. They ran and bucked and they were really pissed off that they were locked up for so long. But after some time, they stopped running. They ran it out and stopped to eat grass. That's when I came to the conclusion that things are the way they are. There is good, there is bad. There is happy, there is sad. I am not always going to have the answers. I may not be funny and I may not be a great writer, but if I wanted I could give myself a break. I have the right like any person on the planet to say, this is bullshit. I have the right to list all the things in my life that I think suck. But I also have the right to go ahead and shave my legs and put on deodorant. Read a book, watch a movie, go ahead and join the living. I'm like the tired horse eating the grass.
What an amazing feeling to have all that noise quiet, peaceful, and serene. But I had to go through all that pain, energy and sleep to come out on the other side with the gift of acceptance. Accepting all the things about me and God and mom. I don't have to be thrilled with it, but I have to accept it and carry on down the road. And if down the road I find out that I am funny and I am a great writer and I'm not a stupid hillbilly? It's just another great gift.
The only area where God and I are still at an impasse is, I am firm on wanting to be chin deep in shit. An IPAD for my suffering? If that isn't in your will I don't even know who's chart you're looking at.