Last night I told my husband we should go catch stars. Oddly, I think one of the main reasons I remember this is because he said, “You should probably go to bed now…you’re not even going to remember this in the morning.” I generally have memory gaps when I get psychologically weird.
When he said that, I obviously thought, “Shut up, you sane person! I WILL remember this! Because this is my BEST IDEA EVER!” And I willed myself to remember that moment, which I did. So ha. I win.
I’m not exactly sure why I thought catching stars was a great idea. Every once in a while, I enter a psychological vortex that feels like the opposite of a panic attack. It’s where I have a super great idea that we should go do right exactly now, but it usually ends up being something quite weird (when I remember it at all). Last night it was catching stars.
When you think about it, catching stars really does sound fun (you know…if it was possible). I believe I said that they’re just “hanging out up there” and “why don’t people ever go get them?” They could keep them in jars like fireflies, and they could take one out whenever they need a wish! I think then I said something about what I would wish for, but I don’t remember what I said (my husband didn’t challenge me to remember that).
Having a mental illness mostly sucks, but think about it – for a few minutes, I lived in a world where catching stars was possible. Was it healthy? Probably not. Exciting? Heck yeah. It’s worth mentioning that sometimes my world is even more fun than reality, but I guess reality is a safer place to live.
Maybe I can’t literally catch stars, but I’m sure I could squeeze a “go for your dreams” metaphor out of that situation. It practically writes itself.
Go catch your stars. Metaphorically only.