Wrong Side of the Bed Syndrome

Lets start with the fact that we all have those days. Those days where we just wake up wrong. We wake up feeling groggy, tired, annoyed and heavy. I mean, at least I do. I wake up some days feeling like no matter what is put in front of me, I will continue to be snappy and short because nothing can make me feel better. And those days suck. Like really suck. 

My wise, loving and patient Momma once told me, "Its ok to feel bad, and to wake up on the wrong side of the bed." This stuck to me like a sticker that was on the back of your shirt you couldn't get off. Like the ones that friends would stick to you when you are in a  grocery store, and snicker at you as you blindly walk around with a $5.99 sticker on your back, all the while you are walking around angrily mad at the world. Well, when my momma told me this, I thought she was just trying to get me to quit my bitching and moaning and just move on. The idea of being ok with waking up on the wrong side of the bed seemed like a blanket statement of comfort that didn't help; but it really stuck with me for some reason. That I would always feel a pang of guilt when I felt low or down because I didn't know why and that I was just trying to find a way to be unhappy. 

Until I woke up on the wrong side of the bed and I started crying as soon as I looked in the mirror. 

I looked in the mirror and just couldn't handle it. I couldn't handle the fact that I was so tired from not getting a full night of sleep. I couldn't handle the laundry list of To-Do's that crowded my mind the instant my eyes opened. I couldn't handle the fact that I had to adult that day and actually be around humans. I could handle functioning. And you know what I did? I took a bubble bath. Yep, thats my cure for a hurting heart. A mother-trucking bath full of cosmic color, aromatic smells and 30 minutes of watching a favorite movie on my laptop that is perched on my toilet. I got out of that tub with a smile on my face and better feeling in my heart. 

Now, I can imagine the eye-rolls that I am getting. Like come on MF, a tub full of color and scents is not something that can cure "Wrong Side of the Bed Syndrome", but it isn't the fact that it was the bath bomb that I got from Lush made me happier, it was finding something small to bring a smile to my face. This has become a core part of my recovery and search for happiness:

Finding the small things that make me happy and can give me a fleeting smile.

I constantly am saying that I can't remember when I truly felt happiness when trying to vocalize how I feel to my loved ones, that I hadn't felt true joy in so long that I forgot what it felt like. I realized, as I have commonly come to learn, that my Momma was right once again. That its ok to wake up wrong, but to acknowledge it as such. Wake up wrong and move on. So something that I have tried to challenge my self on harder days is to find something, even if it just one thing, that can give me a wave of comfort. Whether it be watching some Harry Potter movies (they always make me feel like I am escaping my world), reading a good book all snuggled up in your bed, drinking a pretty cocktail on a beach, or simply going down and getting the mail and getting some fun packages, this has been something I try to do everyday to teach my mind about happiness again. 

So its no shock that I went down to get the mail today because I got the notification that a shirt that I had been waiting for had come in, when I opened the package and saw the tag on the shirt. The tag listed this:

I mean, at least one of these proclamations has to speak to you. I really appreciate and acknowledge the "Embrace Your Messy Hair" idea, cause Lord my hair is a mess all the time! 

I leave you with a challenge, much like on the last post. I challenge you to find one thing today that makes you happy. One thing that you look at and immediately thing of a positive memory. One thing that seems innocent and naive. One thing that eases your tension. 

Until next time,

MF