“T.G.I.T.”
by Kathi
Let’s get this straight. I can’t be confused with Pollyanna. I have a temper and a decidedly sharp tongue when provoked. Having said that, I’ve discovered something.
I’ve noted of late, that I need to change a few things about how I look at life.
No, you didn’t read the title wrong. It says T.G.I.T. not T.G.I.F. Thank God it’s Friday, implies that I’ve waited all week for this one day. What if, in the course of focusing on that one day, I forget to notice what is happening in each moment? It’s bad enough some of the waiting in my life is enforced.
One day at a time is another way to look at this. I can’t live more than one day a week, so if I’m fixed on one day, four days away, what am I doing with NOW?
Instead, I’ve been trying to focus on Thank God it's Today. How many times have I taken it for granted that tomorrow would come?
For me, a big part of living with bipolar disorder (and my other problems) has had to do with changing the way I think about things. I have no power over having chronic illness. I can choose to make use of my abilities instead of bemoaning my disabilities. I can choose my attitude. I don’t have to be a victim.
When I say "Thank God it's Today," it’s a statement of gratitude, but it’s also a way to look at today as an opportunity. Every day holds many gifts. In just one day last week: friends at work helped me cope with symptoms. I listened to a radio story about an undersea archeological discovery while I was struggling through traffic in 80-degree heat. I went to my niece’s dance rehearsal. I came out of a loud, hot auditorium into cool, rain-washed air, and the sound of crickets. I was tired, but I was also full of the kinds of gifts that make a day worth living. What kind of price would you put on that day? That particular day will never happen again. I showed up for it. I took it in, and it made me better.
When I was a kid, at Christmas, a well-meaning adult always gave me a flannel nightgown. Not a high ranking gift on a kid’s list! Looking back though, one of my best memories was of wearing a flannel nightgown bundled up in bed on a winter’s night with a book. Sometimes the gifts we receive don’t always look like gifts, and sometimes we don’t know they’re the gifts we need.
Breaking my arm last year certainly didn’t seem like a gift. That one traumatic event turned my life completely around and gave me another chance at life. My last depressive episode gave me information that I can use to handle the next one, maybe even be better prepared for it.
Thank God It's Today.