Well, this is pretty much the opposite of what I was doing last Saturday and I have to say I’m so glad for it. I feel like I have finally come good again and am excited for the week ahead… for life in general, really.
The brain is a strange thing. We only have so many happy chemicals so, when we deplete them, we simply have to wait for them to be replenished. There’s no way around it. And that waiting is terrible. Everything feels grey and pointless. Each day is a murky wasteland of failed attempts to feel just a little bit less bland.
And then something else happens. I know it’s cliché but it feels like a shroud has been lifted and, all of a sudden, life is brighter. You have energy. You want to make plans and do stuff. The gym seems like a definite (possibility). Hell, you’re even excited about it. For myself, I start making all kinds of promises to myself about how well I’m going to eat. I look into detoxes and healthy recipes to try and cancel out all the comfort food I gorged myself on while I was wallowing in my meh-ness. Anything seems possible.
We’ll see how long it lasts. Probably until the next drinking session eventuates. I tell myself no, but really, who am I kidding?