Is it Mania? Or is it Love...

Hello readers,

It's been so long, I don't know where to begin. I guess I'll just post about how I've been doing, and fill in the blanks in the next few posts.

As the title suggests, I have met someone. He is the cheese to my macaroni, and I'm sure I will be addressing *that* topic as I go along. A week into our relationship I remember waking up - sun shining through the window, me looking forward to my day at work - with this wonderful, complex, beautiful man waking up next to me. The day simply rolled along from there, me feeling like I had unlimited energy and emotional resources. The feeling that I could give to the whole world and still have enough left to give to myself. That's when I realized... am I happy? Is this what happiness feels like? Is this what love feels like? Is all of this real, or am I having a manic episode?

Needless to say, I still live with my mental illness on a daily basis.

For the record, I have established that I was not having a manic episode. I am, in fact happy. And it is not just because I found my love. In fact, that may be a small piece of it - not to diminish that in any way - but I believe it is the events that lead me to falling in love that have also contributed to happiness in so many other areas.

I have been working in childcare, and enjoying every moment. I feel a part of their family, and I feel very connected to the children. With this realization, I began to feel better about my life, and more comfortable reaching out to new things and new people. I ran into two old friends. One who I am now happily dating, and the other who offered me another job, a new friendship, and a lot of new learning along the way. I'm now working (as well) as a gardener for an architectural landscaper, and I *love* it. I spend half of my working days with two amazing children, and the other half knee and elbow deep in dirt, plants, woodbugs, worms. Talking to the deer, eating lunch on the ocean. Drawing in as much sun as my little body can handle. And I feel so fucking good.

I think of Elizabeth Wurtzel. She wrote 'Prozac Nation'. There was a point where she wrote about her recovery from depression, and I will paraphrase. Basically, what she said was that her recovery from illness was similar to her descent into depression. It happened slowly at first, and then all of a sudden. Perhaps my recovery can be the same. Isn't it interesting that as soon as I start finding happiness working with children, and their mother who is a close friend of mine; Finding that connection through a healthy family... Isn't it interesting that from there I can start to crawl out from my shell. If I hadn't taken those risks - meeting up with old friends, I wouldn't be knee deep in dirt, or waking up next to the most amazing man I have ever had the privilege of knowing.

My journey is far from over. Relationships are complicated, work will be shifting quite a bit this summer. I want to thank those who have been following my blog, and ask you to keep reading. I've never been to this place before, and I can't help but think it's certainly going to be an interesting few months. I'm thinking it's important for me to start writing again, because this is where I go to ground myself.

Finding my sunshine again,
Pyjama Smoker.

PS - To K, an avid reader and close friend who lives over the waters. This one is dedicated to you. I love you, Lady. xoxo