Sexy Happy

We slept deeply, oblivious of the sun’s arms stretching across the Boston skyline. My best friend and I stayed out late the night before dining and dancing with my brothers and sister-in-law on the uneven streets of downtown. Thanks to Priceline, we basked in the luxury of a 5 star hotel we could barely afford to breath in normally, drew the heavy room darkening shades tight and slept uninterrupted for hours.

When our eyes finally fluttered open and focused on the dimly lit room, giggles erupted. It hardly seemed possible that both of us could have slept so soundly well passed 9am. The crisp white sheets still smelled of bleach and lavender, with a hint  of tuber roses from my perfume.

Breakfast on the patio

Sunlight cut through the room, filling every corner wholly as the curtains were drawn. The day had started without us. I could see the ships docked outside our hotel room, casually curtsying to people as they strolled down the walkways. The tips of the water’s edge glistened and danced in the June air. It was the perfect morning. I felt energized and sexy happy, my body well-rested and content.

That trip was more than two years ago.

I have been taking Fluoxetine for almost two weeks now. My PMDD has not reared its ugly head yet. In fact, I still have a few days of calculated sanity before all hell typically breaks loose. I was prepared to “wait and see” how this drug effected my hormonal mood swings. I was prepared to brace myself for what ever came my way and even prepared to try something different after my 6-week follow-up if this drug was not effective. What I wasn’t prepared for was someone drawing open the room-darkening curtains of my life, revealing sunshine. Revealing that the days had started without me for a long time.

You don’t realize how depressed you are, until you aren’t. 

Happy had been relative to sadness. It was just better than despair. I have no idea at what point my eyes began to cloud, or when I started to dread waking up in the morning, or how many months had passed that my poor husband kept asking, “how was your day?” and I sullenly replied, “same as yesterday.”

This week I have more energy and patience. Each day is met with optimism and joy. Exercising feels more like a gift than a burden.  My body feels well-rested and content, just as I did that memorable weekend away with my best friend a few years ago.

I feel present.

I feel sexy.

I feel happy.

7 thoughts on “Sexy Happy

  1. How timely that I found this post; my mother continues her struggle with clinical depression, yet she doesn’t take her medicine as perscribed…I don’t know why.

    I don’t know how to help her and she doesn’t know how to accept any help.

    Because I believe depression is/can be a genetic concern, my sister and I continue to keep check on our own well-being. Always on the lookout for those dark days that begin to link together.

    Thank you for your post.

  2. I am so incredibly happy for you. I’m in tears. What you say is true, you don’t realize how depressed you are untill you are happy. Keep feeling happy, feeling sexy. You deserve it.

  3. Oh I’m so glad you’re feeling better and having a lovely break away. It’s so true what you say ‘You don’t realize how depressed you are, until you aren’t’. Glad too that you’ve not had any nasty side effects just beautiful sunshine. 🙂

  4. A very good friend of mine is battling with depression, and hers became bad very quickly and all she wanted was the misery to stop…. And suicide seemed perfect.

    Through a miracle she found the right person at the right time. She is still here, now on medication.

    The line about not knowing how depressed you are until you aren’t is so very true. When you’re buried in the blackness, you can’t see the light, any light.

    She can now, thank god.

    I am so glad you can too, my friend.

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