Compared to a month ago, my mental state has lifted from the murky puddle it was sitting in to just below the clouds, I’d say. Honestly, my mental state has never fully been above the clouds – it’s been in the clouds – but never above. This is my comfort zone.

The last two weekends have been spent getting out of the house and trying to get back to some sense or normalcy after the chaotic year that it has been. And last weekend was the most important, spent with 5 amazing people that I can always be myself around, who make me laugh and appreciate life. People that remind me life if worth living, there is always fun to be had, and love goes deeper than words. Besides the time spent getting out, my week days after work are spent in my favorite spot on the couch, under my new 18-pound gravity blanket covered in the softest duvet, watching shows that make me laugh or that calm my anxiety. And while that may not sound ideal to some, it’s been absolutely perfect; just what I needed to get out of the slump that I had fallen into the last few weeks.

I don’t think you ever really realize how deep down you were until you wake up one day and feel like a giant dark cloud has finally dissolved and you can see again. Smiling comes easy instead of feeling forced. You actually want to socialize instead of feeling obligated. Showers don’t seem like they suck the life right out of you. And you care more about your appearance. I’m not exactly sure what puts me in those slumps the last few years, as my circumstances and mental state are completely different from three years ago. But it happens, and since the urge to jump in front of a moving train is no longer there, I just go through the motions, knowing it will eventually pass. Which in itself feels one hundred times better than analyzing every single detail of every single day and thought. Fuck, it was excrutiating.

However, as much as I feel better and want to socialize, tomorrow I’ll be driving six hours, only telling a handful of people, to see a family member who isn’t feeling too well. A huge part of me feels guilty, because I’m not really excited to go. I mean, I should be. But, the area is my home town. And just like any good movie cliche; that’s not exactly where I want to be. The drive is long, and at times stressful with traffic. There’s people I don’t care to run into, people I don’t want to have to explain why I can’t “hang out” and people who – frankly – just annoy the hell out of me. But the strange thing I’ve noticed, is I don’t have any anxiety. Normally before a long trip and being away from home for more than I day, I’d have at least some anxiety to deal with. Maybe it’s the last two weekends, or maybe it’s just my mentality better handling things as of late, but I don’t have the nagging worry I normally would. This, I am thankful for. Indeed. As much as I complain about this small town I’m in, it has become home, and thus, my comfort zone.