I Hope You’re Reading This
Little bits of lost faith can be found in the most unlikely of places, and the most unexpected ways. From me to you, this is it.
Little bits of lost faith can be found in the most unlikely of places, and the most unexpected ways. From me to you, this is it.
I learned how to call the hotline on my own. I learned how to Google the names fallen and the sites to go to for help and the cues to look for by myself.
Today reminds us that there are people who are hurting in this world, maybe even the people in our own lives, maybe even ourselves. And that’s okay.
Tonight, I do the best I can to quiet the thoughts.
Even if your body is rebelling against you, your mind is in chaos, and trauma has told you that you are too broken to be fixed—you make today better.
My point in telling you this story is to convey how I tried literally everything I could think of in order to rid myself of depression.
Every time I feel it, I panic. It comes swooping in, stormy and scary. It feels like I’m running from that rhino cloud in James and the Giant Peach.
It was how I survived. It’s what guided me out of that once endless maze; it’s the reason I’m still alive today.
Even when we don’t want to take another step. Even when our hearts hurt. Even when it feels like the phone never rings and no one cares, we are enough.
All signs point to joy. All calculations add up to delight. So why the hell do I feel so afraid and sad?
There are books to read, trips to travel, footprints to imprint in the ground. Your footprints.
Years after that first day when I was eight—on a day just as bright and clear—the world once again plunged into a meaningless gray. Only this time, it didn’t lift.
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