I think that is what I miss most. Joy. That exhilarating feeling that would start at my toes and encompass me to the ends of my unruly hair. I could count on it even in bad times. I’d usually experience it when singing and dancing by myself. With the stereo on, I would sing and move to the music in rapture till I was exhausted.
Now, if I am not anxious, depressed, upset or sad, I am flat. Never at ease or content. Never mind happy. Every so often, like a breeze, I feel a sense of well-being and even as I grasp it, it disappears. It’s like a song I once knew well and I no longer can remember the lyrics or the melody but it haunts me still.
For a long time I didn’t even realize that I had changed. Didn’t realize that I no longer sang, no longer danced. Perhaps remembering is the first step to healing. Maybe, just maybe, I can feel joy again.