One day, in my hometown, it started raining and didn’t stop for 40 years… at least that’s how it felt. After it let up, we were blessed with a what seemed like a single sunny day and now we’re back to “torrential downpour” status. I usually don’t mind the occasional rainy day, but after weeks of doom and gloom, I find myself feeling down.
This is not the original post I had planned for today, but after experiencing a rather crippling depressive episode, I decided to write this instead. Because somewhere out there someone is tucked away in a dark room under their blankets, scared to open their eyes and face the demons awaiting them. Someone is afraid to die, but much more afraid to live. Someone needs to hear this and know they’re not alone. They need someone to tell them the baby steps to recovery because it’s hard to think for yourself when your mind is working against you.