Something about feeling like I should be happy on a certain day sets me up for trouble. Makes perfect sense, I suppose. Christmas Day was a bit tough because everyone is running around saying, "Merry Christmas!" as if the day should have me smiling and happy. At least for Easter, they actually use a more current word to wish me cheer when they say, "Happy Easter!"
I did okay at church. Drew on my sermon note sheet, as usual. I drew a cross and was going to draw something sad, but ended up with an empty tomb, the sun rising, and flowers opening up in blooms. A nice hope of future joy. The next picture was of a woman crying. She might have been Mary in the garden before she knew Jesus was risen. She had a stereotypical Mary head covering. She was also me (but I wasn't currently crying). Then, above her, was a cloud. A dark cloud. That also came down over her. And above that? The sun was shining in a beautiful, clear sky, with a few small, light clouds. The sun's rays didn't come through the cloud though. And that is how I felt about the day. Like a split computer screen. The dark screen on the bottom where my depressed feelings still exist and the bright, hope-filled screen on top of that where part of me celebrated Jesus' resurrection and gift of salvation.
Maybe that's how joy and depression go together? I can't research that on the internet, though, until May 5th. :) And I'm okay with that. For the moment. :)
I did ask my dad a question. Judging from how his answer didn't give me what I wanted (which I don't even know quite what that would have been), it was probably some kind of reassurance-seeking or something. But I did not commit to living flawlessly without scrupulous compulsions for a month; I committed to avoiding internet research. I don't mean this is an excuse for me to run around asking people all the questions all the times I would have checked the internet, but I mean to remind myself that perfect, all-encompassing ERP was not the goal, and it's okay if sometimes I still end up doing other compulsions sometimes.
So, I wish you all a second computer window/screen with hope in it even if the only screen you can see right now is a depressed, anxious screen. The hope one can always be behind the depressed one, after all.