top of page
  • Writer's pictureA.S. Morris

Great Expectations.

Its been a hot second since I last dropped by. There's been lots of things and not a lot of time. Well I guess there has been time, I just haven't spent it here. Not due to lack of want, I purposely use a platform that allows me to write from my laptop, phone, tablet, etc... After all, I am a millennial. Recently I learned that I am technically a "geriatric millennial," we "geriatrics" are apparently comfortable with both the digital and analog worlds. I prefer the label "Oregon trail generation," life was much easier when trying to avoid death by dysentery or ford the raging river.

Part of my journey into blogdom was a way to be open and honest with feelings and experiences. Things I’m historically terrible with. For me it’s easier to shut down, shove it down and go through the motions. I guess that’s why I picked up the high functioning depressive disorder. I’m always able to get out of bed; two children and two dogs plus a husband and a job are hard to ignore. Once I get out of bed and get dressed that’s where the train can come off the tracks. I have days where making coffee is where I peak, other days I’m good until I get to work, some days brushing my teeth is where I earn my gold star. The best part of all you never know what day you’re gonna get. It’s like wheel of fortune meets price is right all in one. I’m spinning the wheel and guessing the value, trying to win the best outcome for the day. Hoping I don’t hit bankrupt or over bid.

As we know life is full of surprises. Good ones, bad ones, life altering, life fulfilling, all shapes and sizes surprises. As is the meaning of the word, we never know when these little flickers of fun are going to arrive. Some may say it’s what makes life worth living. I am not someone who is big on surprises. I like things tickity-boo. These past two years of learning how to manage a major depressive disorder, PTSD, and anxiety does not make ones life tickity-boo.

Because it is obvious or perhaps easiest I wonder how different these past two years might of been if there wasn’t a pandemic. Trying to heal amongst chaos. Trying to grow. Trying to achieve. Trying for normalcy. I’m exhausted from trying. Selfishly I’d like some easiness. Yes, I know life isn’t easy. I still want some easiness. I want some moments of peace. That million dollar spin on the wheel. I want to forget about my accoutrement of mental illnesses. I don’t let this illness define me yet lord know this illness can run rampant when it wants and however it wants. When I came home from a treatment facility after 30 days I had zero expectations on what the next day, week, or year was going to be like. I had to plan my day hour by hour. That was all I was capable of. Sixty minutes of life at a time.

The shittiest part of depression and anxiety for me are their ability to warp your thinking especially on things you know not to be true. I know the amazing strides I have made personally and even more so professionally over these past two years. Strides that people with my illness could only imagine achieving. Dear friends, family, and colleagues have shared how proud they are of me. Which is so wonderful. The worse part I’m not proud of myself. I don't believe in the strides I have made. Or perhaps its more that I don't recognize the strides I have made. Like many of you reading this I can think of a million different uplifting fortune cookie sayings that should carry me through the dark times. I have never been one to latch on to inspirational sayings or quotes. Perhaps there is something out there designed to warm the hearts and stir the spirits of us sarcastic cynics. If you happen to be an expert in such things please feel free to share your wisdom or cynicism.

Like many I enjoy a challenge, I however am so incredibly ready to tap out of this fight. I want to sit on a porch, rock in a chair, slowly drink my coffee, and feel peace. Am I really asking that much? I understand this is a battle I primarily have to fight on my own, its a blast. Truly. I'm done though. I'm ready to retire, join the hall of fame, hang my jersey in the stadium. However, like I said before, I would simply settle for a quiet porch and my coffee. I know I couldn't go through the experiences I did and not come through it unchanged. That isn't possible. Clearly unhealthy thoughts, actions and habits are was got me into a dark place. We don't need history repeating itself. Next week marks two years since my world changed forever. Changed on my own accord. Its hard to not let my brain play those days and moments on repeat. A continuous loop examining all the things and every detail. Two years later and I still can't wrap my head around it. In some ways it is still so very surreal. I still wonder at what point does that surreal feeling fade ? Maybe it never will. I guess only time will tell.

78 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Reflections in Sequins

Reflecting on the past 12 months feels like flipping through a haphazardly assembled encyclopedia, capturing the highs, lows, and mundane moments that have woven this year's narrative. It is the beaut


Grief. A five-letter word that encompasses a cornucopia of meanings. Grief isn't linear and can't be tied up as a beautiful bow in the most luxurious ribbons. It comes in all shapes and sizes. I wasn'


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page