it occurred to me that there is just as much grace in living a life that you hate, as there is in being happy and full of joy.

i've always been such an optimist and a positive thinker, never been depressed, etc. i never could see how people could think who were sad. like another language. i was just happy, that's all, that's the only way i could see it. i was disdainful of people who were unhappy; i could never see why they didn't see all the beauty in the world that i saw. but now it's different.

but so what if i'm living with a couple people who i don't really relate to, who don't know if i'm even here, alive, dead, or whatever. if i spend 2 days shivering in my bed here. if all i can eat is lemonade. if i have no interest in photography or portland or anything. if my best friend is too busy to see me. if i have no friends. if i have nothing at all, nothing to live for.

there is just as much grace in living each day like this as there is when i was happy. it doesn't matter. i will find a way.

i lost my job today and started the day with a panic attack when my manager called to fire me, for no reason. she wouldn't give a reason. i've been 15 minutes early for every shift for the past two weeks. i've been the best worker ever. all the employees like me. whatever. i can't believe losing a job could make me that miserable, but it did.

because i'm taking suboxone i can't kill myself by overdose, which makes things more complicated for me. having suicide as an option is comforting even if i'll never do it. but it's not an option, physiologically, right now.

i spent a lot of time freaking out over the phone to my parents and jason, and over IM to donna. she says i can't live with her ever, or at least for almost a year, which for me is basically forever. i can't think beyond the present. i couldn't stop crying. there should be some kind of shut-off valve in your heart so you just pass out or something when you feel like that.

anyway i had to leave the house for my counseling appointment, and i met this random stranger on the bus bench. dominic. i talked to him for a while and it cheered me up. then i was early for my appointment, so i went to coffee time on NW 21st and started a random conversation with a stranger. lately i've been talking to strangers with this question: "why should i not kill myself?" their answers are interesting.

this fellow told me that i have a chance to make a difference, to make the world a better place. we talked for a while. it was sunny and for the first time in a while i saw portland the way i used to see it. i went to my appointment and had a fairly good conversation with dr. w., as narcissistic as he may be, it was ok. then i walked down burnside singing "the only living boy in new york" to myself.

the guy that i met at the bus stop, dominic, called me, and we shared a bottle of wine at la buca while he drunkenly tried to cheer me up, but i was already cheered up. he kept telling me i was beautiful and that i had so much to live for etc etc. it was entertaining, at least.

so now i'm trying to sleep, and it occurred to me, that there is just as much grace in every minute i spent crying or miserable, as there was when i was happy and perfect and beautiful all the time. i may hate everything about my life, but it's ok.

there is just as much grace in sadness.