I'm notoriously early to bed, early to rise these last couple years. Was more like a habit, and rhythm my body fell into.
I do love the early morning hours because they are dew kissed, possibility filled, moments.
Everything after that is hard. But life is struggle; whether you have mood disorders or a physical disability. Or even under "normal" circumstances I'd argue life is hard.
What I need to do is unearth my optimistic, almost silly side. Where has that joy gone?
Side note: doing the early bed/early rise thing doesn't guarantee healthy, wealth or wise. Or was that only applicable to men Mr. Franklin?
So where has the whimsical me gone?
I could argue it started hiding as soon as "grown up" issues became so important and necessary.
So where is she hiding?
I tried to freestyle dance (my favorite thing) the other day and I felt nothing. I could tap side to side, I could do the smallest, most basic things. (that could actually be the biproduct of anti-anxiety or bipolar meds.)
She's really hiding, some space within me that's hard to find.
I know she's there because she pops out at rare, brief times with a (welcomed) joyous frame of mind.
I'm excavating Party Nielle and finding the person that is fun without alcohol.
It's a long, arduous process.
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