Well, it's happened.
The universe has finally been like "Okay, bitch, fine. You've worked hard, you've been kind to people, you've been doing what you need to do. We're gonna let you out."
And then I'm like "Wait, wait wait, WTF universe? I get to be happy? I get to live my calling? I get props for what I do? People appreciate me and express that appreciation? I get to not live in a constant downward spiral of depression?"
And then the universe is like "Yeah, shut up bitch, you've put in your time. You deserve this. Roll with it, for the love of god."
And then I'm like "Okay. :) "
I can't believe how rewarding owning a business is. It's scary and financially shitty, but I am so happy that I took the risk. I get to help people on my terms--and my terms work for me as well as for them. I get to structure what I need to do for me to be effective. I get to give people what they need, and if they don't want it, they don't have to take it--but most people do want it and do take it.
In the past month when I've spoken to people about my depression and chronic fatigue, several of them have been astonished. "Really?" they say. "You don't seem like a depressed person."
And then I almost prove them wrong by crying. Tears of happiness, of course, but jesus christ, I am so happy that I don't seem like a depressed person, because I really, truly am not.
I just needed to find what worked for me.
When you spend so many hours of your day working, you need to find something you love to do. Which I did. But it wasn't enough. It was what I loved to do in a setting that was a horrible fit for me. Wait--I take that back--the most fucking horrible fit for me in the whole entire world. Okay, maybe not true, but looking back, I'm so happy that I can move away from that experience and move forward doing what works for me, my happiness, my health, and my future family.
I thank god, or whoever, or the universe, or whatever, and you know what? Fuck it, I'm going to thank myself. I've worked hard and I deserve to be happy.