what matters now

Write.  Just write.  Keep writing.  My anti-depressants allow me to live a "normal" life but they also rob me... of my creativity.  It is a curse.

I scratch... at my surface and try to get deeper.  What do I have to contribute if I am not emotionally raw?

Happiness?  Does anyone want to hear about happiness?  About satisfaction?  About contentment?  Don't we all want to hear about soul searching, gnashing of teeth, finding oneself?

I'm left pondering what I have left to contribute...My anti-depressants work.  My husband comes home.  My children are happy.  

Of course, I have deeper issues, but I am left wondering if they are worth raising?  

My best friend is going to have a baby.., any day.  Her second baby.  A girl.  Another girl.  She and her husband are overjoyed.  I am so happy for them both.. . for them all.  For the mother who will love her child like an only one, for the father who feels so blessed, for the beautiful sister who is overjoyed to have a sibling .... and for myself.  To know finally how a family reacts when they are blessed with two daughters.  To know that a father can honestly openly welcome two lovely daughters... a father who couldn't be more masculine... a father whom everyone suspected could only welcome sons.  I am humbled by his love and devotion.  I am awed.  I shouldn't be I know.  But having come from nothing....