I’m sure this title will mislead many.
Before you go any further – I’m talking about Pollyanna vs. Melancholy. So do what you must.
Do you ever get tired of the way you act? I do – often -- actually.
When I find myself getting sucked into melancholia, I get crabby. I hate being blue and negative and wading through the reasons why I do the things I do, and even worse, using those things as excuses to remain stuck.
I’ve felt the slide into self-absorption over the past few weeks. It always starts out with little choices. I can choose to pray and read my Bible, or not, and then believe that God has stopped communicating with me. Or I can choose to be kind and respectful and generous with my husband, or I can find a hidden insult in anything he says or does and then lament about the sad state of our relationship.
Instead of stopping the slide from melancholy to maudlin by regrouping, I often wade in further.
Crazy -- since I hate it so much.
There are things I’ve learned about myself that help me regroup – when I choose to use them.
Being with people energizes me – sometimes -- I also need times of quiet and peace.
My life is like an off balance washing machine right now, and I’m not working on getting my equilibrium back. I’m reading the Bible and praying, but as a habit, rather than a desire to be close to God. I’m focused on the negatives -- the little things that wouldn’t even tweak me on a good day are burrowing into my thoughts and attitudes.
Creativity is not happening and that frustrates me further. I’m snarky and edgy, and even though everyone who loves me thinks my sarcastic sense of humor is funny, I’m pretty sure snarky and edgy aren’t cute.
I’m stopping now and putting melancholy on notice! I am going to get a good night’s sleep, spend some time with God, focus on the things that build my relationships and not the junk that will tear at them. I’ll keep plugging away at what I know I’m supposed to do, and choose to think happy thoughts while I do it.
And maybe, just maybe, Pollyanna’ll get melancholy wrestled down and pinned for the count.
Oh, look, the sun is shining after all. And no, I am not going to complain about the heat.
Change. I've learned to embrace it, ride it out til the end. Sometimes I'm kicking and screaming, other times weeping with my eyes clinched tight. Once in awhile I ride like a dog in a car, head out the window snorting what life has to offer. Mother to young adult children, a marriage of thirty years, and a desert to mountain to valley waltz with God have shaped me into someone I never imagined I'd be. Life is short and I want to live it. Tears, sighs, laughter and change. Every morsel granted to me. Scrambled, shaken or stirred.