Nostalgia is a weird thing

Lately I've been feeling something I cant quite place. Nostalgia but for a time that never existed, at least not for me.

Everything is changing. Everything has changed. For the better, which is new to me. I'm in a city, I'm in a house - my house - that I love, I have energy, I'm in a stable relationship, and for the first time possibly ever I can just be. Granted I am me so in just 2 weeks the pipes under the house had to be replaced and our oven just died, but the shocking part about both of those things is that its fine. The pipes were fixed in 2 days, the oven is getting replaced on thursday. No extra money (we rent), no extra stress, no walking on eggshells or having to scramble to fix it on my own. Just a setback that can be dealt with and not the end of everything. My ptsd is struggling to understand how everything can be okay, but I'm learning and Isaac is teaching me.

This has all combined to make a few different outcomes I wasn't expecting:
the realization that I have DID and subsequently "meeting" some of my alters  
my pain changing, now its much more targeted and I'm having less trouble figuring out the causes
rediscovering my love for various things, like art and sewing
and the most intense baby fever and desire to get married. Literally so strong I can't stop thinking about it.

On top of those things though, I've had a lingering feeling of nostalgia. These completely foreign experiences and concepts that have entered my life have triggered something so deeply in me its as if they're rewriting everything I've known into a simpler happier story. Music, art, and poetry have such a profound effect on me that I've never known before. Breakfast in the morning and liquorish tea, listening to CDs and cassettes and the radio. Through it all I cant help but feel this tugging at my mind that I've done this all before, when life was easy 20 years from now. I walk through this life feeling as if I was this age back in 2006 and I'm recreating it in my 40s. Nostalgia for a time I wasn't alive for, a time that's yet to happen, and the present all at once. It leaves me with a hopeful and bittersweet feeling. I'm not exactly sure why it's bittersweet, but it is nonetheless. I'm just having to learn that even if I cant explain why it doesn't mean I don't feel it. I'm learning a lot of things these days. Mostly about myself, but after all this time it's nice to get to know the person (and people) I am. Taking the parts of my childhood I love and embracing them in the present has been difficult but worthwhile. My hands may be wrinkled and hair going grey, but I've only been on this earth for 18 (almost 19) years, and I have many more years of aging to do. This time I'm going to do it as slowly as I want, with all the patience I've spent my life giving others.