I wake up each day in a relatively good mood.

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To the Perpetually Perky Person (or PPP’s), that sentence isn’t a big deal. But for someone like me, who has battled depression their entire life, it’s as foreign as opening my wallet and finding a thick wad of cash.

I’m happy to hoist my achy body out of my warm memory foam bed to join my husband downstairs for coffee before he starts getting ready for work. We sit at the kitchen table on our separate laptops. (Mine is ancient and begs to be replaced.) After a few sips and my first cigarette, I am awake enough to engage in conversation. Our dogs are either still sleeping or playing together. We comment on them, how sweet they are and laugh at their shenanigans. We’ll discuss whatever crazy thing is trending on Facebook or how cold it is outside. If he’s in the mood, he’ll play his guitar and I’ll listen.

And some mornings, we are both content enough to say nothing much at all.

I’ll check my email (spam mostly) and take a quick look at my blog to see if I have any comments that need responding to. I’ll go to Facebook and see what’s going on there. I’ll wait for my friends Alice and Cheryl to pop up, the only two people who I chat with on a daily basis.

How are you? What’s new? Oh, you know, same old, same old. (And do you both know how much I love you?)

If it’s a school day, my daughter will send me short updates.

Her English professor is a little off his rocker, which is why he’s her favorite.

My mom will call me. She never misses a morning phone call. We’ll discuss what her day looks like and vice versa. Will I be taking a nap today? I have no idea. Sometimes I fade away and sometimes I stay with the program. It’s a total crap shoot. You just never know what fibromyalgia has in store for you.

The majority of days, I’ll feel inclined to write something, usually just to be able to say that I did. It makes me feel useful. I might be able to make someone laugh (which is my favorite thing to accomplish) or to think to themselves, hey, me too! I feel that way sometimes myself.

My life is like the movie Groundhog Day, with slight variations.

I stay in a relatively good mood all day. I’m not farting rainbows but I’m not under a dark rain cloud, either.

I pray daily. Please God, may the antidepressant I’m currently on continue to work for a long time. May my anxiety stay at a low hum instead of a deafening roar.

I will take chronic pain over soul sucking depression.

That almost sounds like something a Perpetually Perky Person would say.

Fuck that noise. I have a rep to maintain.

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