One life to live?

Or many?

Going through my old blog entries has made me even more introspective than usual, realizing (again) that I've been battling depression on and off throughout my whole existence.  During my happy times, I push down any hint of sadness and think I'm magically cured.  Until the next time it rears its ugly head and whispers lies in my ear.

I've had several lives, which feel like discrete entities as I look back.  In reality, I suppose they blended into one another.  Is there a multiverse containing parallel universes in which I die at the end of each of these lives?  My childhood was abysmal.  I barely feel any connection to it (besides all the traumas associated with it, which I try to ignore).  Does one alternate universe have me dying as a child or in my teenage years along with most of my peers?  Accident?  Suicide?  Homicide?  Miami in the 80s could have been any of the above.

But that didn't kill me in this universe.  It made me Stronger.

Then there was college and my true independence blossomed (although I've been fairly self-reliant since the first time I ran away from home at age 6).  I learned how to live on my own.  To have the freedom to make all of my own decisions, which was glorious.  To answer to no one.  And to take responsibility for my mistakes, which was sobering.  Does one universe have me dying in college for taking stupid risks because I felt immortal?  Because even if I wasn't suicidal, I didn't particularly care if I lived or died.

But that didn't kill me in this universe.  It made me Wiser.

After college, I tried the grad school thing, but the migraines combined with the ennui of the subject matter (bad choice, Wendy) drove me into another funk.  Which led me to partying every night.  Until I eventually fell in love with someone completely wrong for me.  Unsurprisingly, he broke my heart.  Which I guess was fine because he wasn't long-term partner material anyway, and I knew it even then.  Maybe even he knew that I wouldn't stick around with him.  But that heartbreak (worse than any physical pain I'd ever had) drove me into another downward spiral.  And again I did all kinds of risky activities, because why not?  Does one universe have me dying during this time?  I again didn't care if I lived or died.  Life never stayed happy for long.

But that didn't kill me in this universe.  It made me more Interesting.

And then I met Galahad, my former partner of 20 years.  He helped me to find my inner peace.  Even though I still battled demons from time to time, I finally experienced true happiness and contentment.  Until he decided he was done.  And his memory became another of my demons to battle.  Do I die battling one of these many demons in another universe?  The pain of my first heartbreak was laughably infinitesimal compared to this one.

But that didn't kill me in this universe.  It gave me Hope.

Now, I'm on to another phase of my life.  Making new friendships, deepening others, and learning how to be happy again.  Now that I know what it feels like and that it was possible once, I crave contentment and stability like an addiction.  I've also learned that my Inner Happy Wendy didn't come from another person.  He was just the rudder who steered me toward it.  I have to remind myself of this constantly, to look for my lodestar, which is a perpetual struggle.  But I can do it.  I will do it.  So that my demons don't kill me in this life, in this universe, either.

Because I am ...
Stronger.
Wiser.
More Interesting.
Hopeful.