So, Saturday morning I woke up and rolled over to Jesse’s side of the bed expecting him to be there so I could snuggle up on his shoulder – trust me, it’s comfier than it sounds. I was half-sleeping, half-dreaming, just doing what I usually do on weekend mornings. I finished rolling into a vacant space.

Okay, I know this picture is dramatic,

but seriously! It’s so appropriate. Thanks, Google!

As the realization that Jesse wasn’t in bed and in fact he wasn’t anywhere readily available to me, struck me, I got pretty bummed. As I rose out of my bed, this eerie funk crept over my body. This silky sadness that felt so familiar, it wasn’t even an effort to accept it. It was just there, like it had always been there.

I spent a lot of time feeling downright depressed on Saturday. I walked around feeling like if anyone had the nerve to ask me, “What’s wrong?” I would have started crying and not been able to stop. It was just one of those days. I felt horrible.

I wanted to crawl back into bed. I wanted Patronus to come cuddle up with me and purr at me until I felt better. That wasn’t going to happen either. So you know what I did? I went on with my life. I went to the gym. I did some homework. I cleaned my bathroom. I stayed busy. Finally, the time came for me to drive to Tampa for my step-dad’s birthday party. I felt sad there too, but I made the best of it and I chit-chatted with everyone. I had a mojito, that certainly helped.

I knew why I was sad. I missed my family. Jesse was 3,000 miles away getting an awesome tattoo and I was in Florida. Waiting for my life to start. Waiting for things to happen. Waiting for the day to be over.

I also know I’m (earmuffs guys) hormonal. Right around this special time of the month, I feel emotions much more intensely. I may have felt bummed last weekend, but this weekend I was in a Shakespearean tragedy. I felt like the sun would never set on my day. I would be sad for all eternity. I would never move to Seattle. My life would just drift into nothingness and August would never arrive.

I knew I was being dramatic. I knew I was being senselessly sad. I knew there were a lot of things I could do that would help make me feel happier, but I just didn’t have the energy. I was beating myself up for being such a sad turd when I thought, “You know what, this isn’t permanent. Tomorrow will probably be better, so I should just leave myself alone.”

So that’s what I did. I let myself be sad. I let myself have a pity party because I missed my boys. I promised myself Sunday would be a better day, and it was.

I don’t know if anyone else has days like this one. I rarely have days like Saturday anymore, but I think this one was justified in some ways. I figured out why I was sad and I let it go. That’s all we can ask of our emotions sometimes and happiness is not something we’re supposed to feel 24/7. It’s an emotion like everything else, constantly changing.

I hope the short tale of my adventures in sadness was a helpful one for you. Sometimes we have bad days and even mental health counselors have to remind themselves of that.

Author: Jennifer Bingaman Mazur

I like writing about what I think about what I think. I also like writing about what other people think and what I think about that. Yes? Yes.

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