more than breathing

People would ask, "How are you?" For a long time my response was, "I'm still breathing," and that was on my best days. Things had gotten so bad that was the most positive and honest response I could give. I didn't want to complain, and though I knew (most of the time) people didn't really want to know how I was doing, I couldn't bring myself to lie and say, "I'm fine." Ok, sometimes I would say that, but I always felt bad about it afterwards. It made me feel fake. It made me feel trapped in the misery, as though by saying those words locked the door on my personal prison. To admit that all was not lost, that, at least, I was breathing, left the door open and gave me some hope.

A few weeks ago I realized things are pretty good nowadays. It's far from perfect, but I am not feeling that hopelessness, the feeling that this is all there is and there's nothing I can do about it. I realized I've been doing more than just breathing and that's a really good feeling! What's even better is that I even recognized it. I mean, there wasn't some monumental thing that happened to brighten my hopes; it was a slow process -- a painfully slow process.

Everyday I would get out of bed (that is a very important start--crucial) and decidedly put one foot in front of the other and tried, tried very, very hard to remain positive. I would breathe. Often. Things happened that were completely out of my control and I would breathe. Things would happen that hurt me more deeply than I thought I would ever be able to survive and I would breathe. Take another step. Breathe.

Finally, breathing is not so much an effort. Taking the next step is still a little difficult, but my new motto is "no excuses." I've started looking at the different areas within myself that I've needed to work on and started taking steps to improve them. No excuses.

Today I am more than breathing. I am living.