I sit here Saturday night, exhausted but hopeful.
I’ve been fighting massively with depression the last two months. It’s still there. Depression never really goes away. It’s a lot like an addiction. However, the past few days there’s been light. It’s like being in a lake with weights and you’re swimming as hard as you can, and you can see the sun. You can see the surface.
You have two choices.
Give up. Let the weights drag you down to the bottom of the lake. Not necessarily suicide. Self-pity, despair, hopelessness. This is easy to do, even though it hurts so badly. This is the default setting.
The other choice is to find purpose and struggle up to the top. Shed the weights, though it’s so difficult. Reach up, kick your legs, be a bad ass, and reach the surface. Breathe in the air. The struggle never stops. You keep wading water. Yet at least for a while you can breathe.
For whatever reason I’ve become more and more motivated to workout. I think it’s God pushing me because He’s pretty awesome. At every step there are more reasons I want to workout, and with the weather being tolerable, I think I might go for a run. I stretched tonight. From there, I’ll find a workout routine. I’ve been researching a few the past week.
Depression has also been smothering my writing. It’s made it difficult, stagnant, and uninspired. I watched some good wuxu tonight (part of the workout kick), and it inspired me. It was beautiful, majestic, and mystical, a combination few cultures convey as well as China.
I hope your struggle with depression is going well. I hope you’re still struggling. If you’re in a funk, I hope you rest up just long enough to fight again. Much love to you and your struggles. You have a purpose, hang onto that, even if you can’t tell what the purpose is. I promise you have one.
...like butta' on your toast!
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