“If you have made mistakes, there is always another chance for you.
You may have a fresh start any moment you choose,
for this thing we call ‘failure’ is not in the falling down, but the staying down.”
-- Mary Pickford
Life isn’t always beautiful. Life isn’t always perfect. Sometimes just living is a real struggle. It felt like that earlier this week, when I woke up with an anxiety attack and my husband expressed his frustration by claiming he didn’t know which woman he would be waking up to in the morning – a happy, confident Angela or a nervous, anxious Angela. You see, I don’t always get to choose because I suffer from bipolar disorder, and sometimes the illness determines my mood, despite all my best efforts to buck up and be happy. It just doesn’t work that way with mental illness.
But, when I do have the choice, when I am feeling in control, I am choosing crazy, happy living. I choose to live out loud. I choose to be unashamed. I choose to speak my mind. I choose to laugh until I pee myself. All of these things make me happy – deliriously, undeniably happy. I choose to feel sexy and confident despite my weight gain. I choose to trust in the knowledge that I make a difference and am exceptionally skilled, despite the conflicting opinions of the bastards who would keep me down.
So, this Tuesday, after I came home from my part-time occupation, I decided I wasn’t going to be a victim to the anxiety of the morning. I was going to start over; I wasn’t going to wait until tomorrow. I had a rough morning, and I was beaten – but I will never, ever be broken. I will listen to the words of Mary Pickford, words you have probably seen around this blog before. Therefore, I took my fresh start and chose crazy, uninhibited happiness.
I wanted to create it by any means necessary. Consequently, I looked to my children, who see the world with wonder and awe in nearly every moment of their existence. My daughter was happily dancing around the house in her tutu, one of many I had purchased for her recent birthday. As she turned two, I thought a tutu theme was quite clever and appropriate, and Emily happily pranced around at her party. She continues to cheerfully caper around in tutus, twirling in circles and giggling. I want that; I want that kind of happy where simply whirling in circles makes you astonishingly blissful.
That life is not going to be faultless or flawless. There is going to be pain and deep, dark moments where you feel lost and alone. Rest assured that you are surrounded by love and you will find yourself. Take that fresh start; don’t stay down. Stand back up and celebrate crazy, wonderful you. Even in those moments where I doubt my self-worth, there is a seed inside of me that knows this life, with all its ups and downs, is worth living. I’m glad to be alive, and I will celebrate in my puffy purple tutu.