“It’s about the wake up. Wake up!”

It’s the second.

No matter the time, I’m always surprised when I look at the bright green numbers on the stove’s digital clock as I walk past it to the bathroom.

“4:30?! No way! / 11:45?! No way!”

It doesn’t really matter what time it is so I don’t know why my reaction is usually the same. A ritual, perhaps?

Perhaps.

I wonder what other people’s rituals are? I’d like to observe. Maybe that’s why I enjoy “reality television” so much.

Maybe.

The second ritual today involved my favorite thing ever. The water has to be cold and I have to rinse out the pot at least twice before I put it back on the machine to capture part of my morning energy. This love for coffee has grown more intense as we finally bought a grinder. Imagine the joy it produces for a coffee fiend. It’s intense.

Today, the second, I make enough for eight cups. I’ll probably drink half and William will probably drink two. I never know with him. Some days it’s coffee, others it’s juice or water, and occasionally soda. All I know is after I wake up the second thing I drink is coffee. Water is always first.

“This story is really going nowhere.”

It’s a forced ritual I’m pushing on myself. I know I can do it, I just need to let go of that little negative voice above. It needs to be put away until it’s actually time to edit.

When I walked into the living room I smiled as soon as I realized how sunny it was outside. I quickly opened the thermal curtains to let the light in. I don’t mind being a little chilly as long as the sun flows in freely from everywhere.

See, maybe you don’t understand, but, living in the Midwest, well, the weather takes a toll on some of us. It’s dark and dense and extremely difficult to control. It affects our moods causing a negative ripple effect throughout the rest of our life. It tends to linger.

Regardless of the manner in which it appears — anxiety, self-destruction, depression — it acts as an internal martyr, raging war against the body it inhabits.

When the sun is out, the darkness vanishes. Even if momentary, it’s a necessary break in order to replenish what’s been lost… hope.

Hope comes from observing nature as it reflects the sun’s energy, creating a well of uplifting memories. It comes from sharing a warm embrace. It comes from communicating with others. It comes from remembering all the good things you’ve experienced.

“It’s about the wake up.

Wake up!”

It’s hard to hear and harder to practice, but, we do have a choice when it comes to the way we choose to combat this self oppressor. Make your brain an arsenal. Load it with weapons of logic, goals and aspirations. Stuff it with sounds and beats so deep, so hip-thrusting low, they shake your inner core. Layer it with vibrant visual stimulants and doses and doses of jokes.

Yes. Laugh.

Laughing feels sooo good. When you feel good, you feel good. There’s room for nothing else when laughter is around. It creates happiness. Happiness attracts happiness.

Taste the cake, sip the wine, bite into that crispy slice of pizza. Dance until your feet hurt, listen to music while going to sleep and create something tangible. As your smile reveals each indulgence, take a mental photograph. It’ll come in handy later.

Prepare. Yup. Just like we prepare to start the day by holding to certain rituals like brushing our teeth, touching our bare feet to a piece of earth outside or running in circles around a track, we need to prepare for war against the enemy. We are our own worst enemy.

In my experience, it feels like there’s no rhyme or reason to when mental shake ups will appear. When you are surprised with a slap of anxiousness when just moments earlier you were having the dance of your life, it shakes your ground and topples you off center. You question everything you might have contributed to making it appear. Your mind is now on mental rewind. You question yourself, your state of being, why you brought this upon yourself. You begin to punish yourself for creating the chaos. It becomes a crazy whir of self-doubt, negative ideas and whispers of the vile that put you here in the first place.

You feel sorry for yourself. You hate yourself. You may cry. You may punch a pillow, a wall or another. You might drink to forget or snort to party. You exercise until you puke. You fuck. You eat. You push your limits to feel. You need to feel something beyond this.

For me, this is the norm. For others, it may be worse, may be less, and it doesn’t matter. What’s important is to know how to deal with it when it appears.

And, you know, it’s kind of frustrating to hear certain almost cliche (although well-intentioned, I know) phrases of hopeful cheer.

“Just think about something else. / Don’t be sad/depressed/anxious/afraid. / Okay, don’t freak out. / Just get over it. / You choose to be depressed.”

That last one kind of irks me the most. If I had a choice, this would never happen. Who the hell wants to be depressed? Who the fk enjoys living in a cloud of worthlessness? There is no choice. This happens when your life is put into this realm through circumstances usually beyond your choice. A life-changing event or situation that pushed your mind’s limit to the brink.

You didn’t flip, you resisted and now you’re warped. Seriously, you’re screwed the fk up.

But, it’s okay. We are all screwed up. Some of us are just thrown into a different kind of fkd up that torments us in a random manner. Such is life.

Ultimately, to wrap this up, the most important thing to do is remember the good.