There isn’t one. Depression isn’t nice. It’s not even one bit comforting. It’s lonely and it pulls the covers off of you when all you want to be is covered by a warm security blanket. It looks at you in the face and tells you that you’re an awful, horrible human being who deserves all of the bad that comes their way. It eats you up and spits you out. It grinds you and leaves you naked, and not in the way that you prefer it to.
Why are you depressed?
Why don’t you just chill out?
Why don’t you meditate?
Why don’t you get over it?
Why don’t you get help?
Why are you sad?
Why don’t you just calm down?
Why can’t you be more optimistic?
Why can’t you just stop being you? Oh you mean being totally honest and vulnerable? Yes, let me just stop doing that.
Why don’t you..
Why don’t you…
Why don’t you….
Why don’t you just. Why does there have to be an answer for all of the questions you’ve made up that you think there might be answers to?
It doesn’t work that way. If it did, we’d be 100% happy and thankful and full of gratitude and love (and I know some of us are). We’re not (I’m not) – especially looking and observing the world around us – it’s such an evil dirty place, but yet you have to look around to see what makes it beautiful.
I am going to do just that:
The trees, the sky, the moon, the sun, the shoes on my feet, the money in my wallet, the ability to see, the ability to listen, the ability to talk, the ability to express yourself the way you see fit, the ability to say yes and no, the ability to love who you want to love, the ability to choose the people around you, the ability to shut off relationships that are not meaningful, the love that others want to give you, the love that others do GIVE you, the ability to accept all of this or not.
Ability. Depression. People. 2 way streets.