So that's what a mild depression feels like...

The time was 9:03pm on Friday night. I'm lounged on my couch. My half-eaten pad se ew sat on the coffee table. It was in a styrofoam container, my chop sticks were beside it, but I can't convince the restaurant industry to not use the toxic project. That meal is my favorite take-out here. Number 41 from #1 Chinese, this clean hole-in-the-wall at a shoddy Mexican shopping center. It's less than 5 miles from us. And the perfect capstone.


It was 9:12pm...I had a cocktail on the side table. It was almost gone. But I couldn't have made a better celebration drink. It had been a long week. And it had been a long time since.... I keep repeating myself to Mr. Wookie...


"I'm actually really happy now."


No one likes to reveal to people, people they love let alone, that they just haven't felt themselves lately. But with last week's upswing in emotionally happiness, I realized I had been down in the dumps for weeks and just didn't know it. But then I think about this time last year. We were newly Californians, there was immediate boat time for Mr. Wookie, and I didn't know a soul here. How I was clinically depressed, I don't know.


It's amazing what a year can make in life. And while it's been a long year in the making, I'm glad it's happened. I've learned so much about myself, and what I can encounter and withstand. There's only been a few mental breakdowns, but duly warranted.


So now I'm starting our second year here with the firm foundation I so wanted when we first moved here. I always want instant-success. I want my dream job NOW. I want our dream house NOW. Just call me Veruca from Charlie & the Chocolate Factory. I'm so demanding of life when it reality, life is meant to be slow and enjoyed. I dislike the initial unfamiliarity of it all. Now I know it takes a rough year to enjoy the new.


I guess I was swept from Virginia before I could make it truly mine. We were barely there for a year. And it still seems like a dream. We couldn't have had a better start to living together. Flight school was stressful, but the confines of stress ended at 5pm. Happy hours were plentiful. Friends were enjoyed from Oregon who were also in the path of flight school. And a good friend lived 3 hours North who I'd routinely visit.


Now we're Californians and we're both in unfamiliar waters. We're less than a year out to deployment. Work-ups are interesting as just as I get used to him being gone, he's home. And once I get his laundry caught up, he's gone again. I hear this cycle is the worst. And I'm not complaining yet...or at all. It's just unfamiliar. I'm quite glad we're here for a couple more years. I'm just now experiencing the beauty that makes Southern California desirable and it's turned winter on me. I long for the summer days where I can get sunburned in January after a 4-mile run. These long "winter" nights just make me feel like I live in Fargo.


I can't explain the fog I experienced over the last month-plus; I can only describe it as my birthday happened...then I snapped out of it. And it wasn't a deep fog...just a blanket fog - like my mind had evolved into Eeyore. Noooo bother.


But I'm back. Back with a vengeance. Back to enjoying life like a Ginger should. Back to caring about my health (hello back to running - that break was....depressing...PUN INTENDED!), and back to my usual antics. So yes, I take my glass of mead and toast ....well...myself. Because I'm awesome. Awesome enough to not realize I'm a sad sack of pale genes until my new-found spirit kicks me in my pubic symphosis.


Now let's get ready to ruuuuuuuumble! That and I'm gassy today. Don't know why. Just am. You're welcome. I love sharing this information with you. It truly reveals I'm back.