Bored

I am bored. Well, not exactly bored because there's plenty for me to do and plenty to keep me busy. I just... am.

I'm not incredibly excited about anything in particular. I'm not upset about anything. I'm not horribly stressed about anything specific. I'm... being me, I guess.

My first thought was that the depression was back, hunting me down, seeking revenge for my escape from it's grip. But there is no hint of depression - no sadness, no despair, no emptiness, no longing. I don't feel the need to strive. I don't feel the need to be a better person right this second.

I don't feel like I have to fight for a chance to live, to breathe, to move.

I guess I feel... free.
And not in the frantic way I used to. I used to panic about having moments of freedom - making sure I did as much as I wanted to before my moments of freedom were taken from me.

I want to find a warm spot where I can lay out in the sunshine and just be.