Things That Make Me Happy:
* Losing 35 pounds, without changing my lifestyle much.
* Wellbutrin actually successfully helping me manage my anxiety.
* Scorekeeping for roller derby.
* Sam.
* Picking up editing/proofreading work for more than one person (looks like I'll be adding the Betty Pages for a bit!)
* Cooking/baking.
* Good coffee.
* My cats, mostly.
* The idea of moving to Seattle.
* Music.
* Being surrounded by books.
* Having a clean room for the first time in a year.
* Feeling productive.
* Letting go of deep-rooted fears.
* Realizing where I developed a lot of hang-ups, and telling them to fuck off.
* Writing.
* Having some amazing friends.
* The poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay, Theodore Roethke, e.e. cummings, T.S. Eliot, Pablo Neruda, and many many many more...
* Sleeping and dreaming.
* Making out like a hormone-driven sixteen year old.
* Getting raises at work.
* Colors.
* Cartoons and comic books.
* Horror films.
* Sushi.
* Love.
* Dorky card games.
* Super Nintendo.
* That feeling like your heart has become a miniature sun living inside a lamp, shining through the slats of ribcage blinds, and warming everything with a glow that gilds all that it touches. Every flutter feeling like a tangle of ouroboros snakes snarled and snuggled in your stomach, each beat a hammer blow and the perfect percussion. That feeling of brightness lighting the anxious shadows, causing them to fade away like morning mist.
* Burning it all down.
* Beauty.
* Knowing that everything is okay.
* Laughing until I cannot breath.
* Wellbutrin actually successfully helping me manage my anxiety.
* Scorekeeping for roller derby.
* Sam.
* Picking up editing/proofreading work for more than one person (looks like I'll be adding the Betty Pages for a bit!)
* Cooking/baking.
* Good coffee.
* My cats, mostly.
* The idea of moving to Seattle.
* Music.
* Being surrounded by books.
* Having a clean room for the first time in a year.
* Feeling productive.
* Letting go of deep-rooted fears.
* Realizing where I developed a lot of hang-ups, and telling them to fuck off.
* Writing.
* Having some amazing friends.
* The poetry of Edna St. Vincent Millay, Theodore Roethke, e.e. cummings, T.S. Eliot, Pablo Neruda, and many many many more...
* Sleeping and dreaming.
* Making out like a hormone-driven sixteen year old.
* Getting raises at work.
* Colors.
* Cartoons and comic books.
* Horror films.
* Sushi.
* Love.
* Dorky card games.
* Super Nintendo.
* That feeling like your heart has become a miniature sun living inside a lamp, shining through the slats of ribcage blinds, and warming everything with a glow that gilds all that it touches. Every flutter feeling like a tangle of ouroboros snakes snarled and snuggled in your stomach, each beat a hammer blow and the perfect percussion. That feeling of brightness lighting the anxious shadows, causing them to fade away like morning mist.
* Burning it all down.
* Beauty.
* Knowing that everything is okay.
* Laughing until I cannot breath.