It’s the little things . . .

We say it all the time. Cherish the little things. But how many of us actually do it? How many of us literally take the time to stop and savor our food or drink, soak in the sunlight, admire the beauty of something as simple as a flower or as complex as a piece of art? How many of us acknowledge that smile from our neighbor and take to heart the courtesy of a stranger? We so often say that we enjoy the little things around us, but in our busy days between rushing to work in the morning, rushing to get errands done before heading home, making dinner, taking care of the kids, trying to finish projects before their deadlines, and the million other things we lose ourselves in amidst this crazy life we each lead-how often do we really and truly take time to enjoy the little things?

 

I don’t know if it comes from growing up poor or spending a large part of my life being depressed, but I’ve always enjoyed the little things because sometimes, that’s all there was to keep me going. I certainly didn’t grow up living the hardknock life. But I grew up poor enough that getting new clothes that were from the store and not a garage sale or a hand me down from my brother was a cherished day. Getting to eat out at a restaurant that wasn’t fast food was a special occasion. I learned at an early age that my imagination was the best “toy” I was ever going to have and my box full of dress up clothes was the best thing in the world. I get to play an adult version of dress up being in the SCA doing historical reenactment, and those events I cherish . Not because I get to go party and hang out with friends and an enormous wonderful chosen family, though those are large reasons. But in the SCA, I am surrounded by people who enjoy the little things and bring that out in me. We each take note and admire the fine detail, the research, and the hard work that goes into what brings our little medieval world to life. But it isn’t just my “nerdy” world that I take pleasure in. I’ve caught myself getting lost in amazement of how the sun shines through the clouds while it’s raining. I’ve caught myself wearing a stupid grin as I savored the bite of a home cooked meal. I know that the smell of rain in the air or campfire on my clothes is enough to lift my spirits. I get lost in awe when I see a sky full of stars. The laughter of my niece and nephew is the best sound in the world. And I laugh. Often. I have to.

 

There are times where I am in such a hole, such a rut, that getting myself back on top seems absolutely impossible. And it’s those times that I scrape my pennies together and I buy myself a Crunch bar. No, it’s not “real” chocolate. But it’s chocolate. And chocolate makes me happy. And I savor every bite of it. It doesn’t fix the world. It doesn’t fix my problems. But for those 5 minutes that I’m eating that cheap piece of mass produced chocolate, I am that much happier. And that’s 5 minutes I’m not focused on the bills I don’t have the money to pay, or the car that needs to be fixed, or the groceries I don’t have, or the terrible day that has brought me where I am, or the dark place that my brain can’t escape no matter how hard I fight it.

 

The little things. Cherish them. Hold them close. Let yourself smile fearlessly for everything that makes your heart happy. Because you never know when those little things will be all that you have to get you by.

 

Welcome to the world of a warped mind.

I’ve lived most of my life in the dark. Not the sort of darkness where one is naive and absolutely clueless as to what’s going on around them. But rather, my brain has always wavered in and out of a dark place. I spent most of my teenage years living with depression, I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder when I was 22, and was diagnosed at the same time with attention deficit disorder though I’ve lived with the symptoms for as long as I can remember. I’ve always had a very busy mind, easily distracted, quick to respond and slow to think, and my words come to a page well but seem to stumble from my mouth. And yet while bipolar disorder affects approximately 5.7 million American adults in a given year, there is such a heavy stigma around it. In fact, there is a heavy stigma around almost all mental disorders and ailments. Whether speaking of anxiety or learning disorders, or looking at something more serious as schizophrenia, people tend to look the other way or look on with some sort of amazement-like looking upon a Barnum and Bailey display.

So, I’ve decided I want to help change that. Being one of those 5.7 million people affected by bipolar disorder, I want to help change that stigma. My posts may be funny, my posts may be depressing, but I’d like to hope that despite how they stir your emotions, that they at least will be insightful and helpful to better understanding your neighbor, your friend, your coworker, your family member, your partner in crime.