Hope

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Photo taken here.

Today, I woke up with the weirdest feeling ever.

I felt hopeful.

I rarely ever get to feel this emotion – oftentimes, I’m so lost in thought amidst the doom and gloom of my mind. But today, I woke up feeling like maybe I’m not such a train wreck after all.

I have a wonderful mom who supports me and makes sure I take my medication daily.

I have the best friends who are always there without fail to make sure I feel loved.

I have a two lovely dogs and a shit-ton of cats to cuddle with.

My clinical treatment team is awesome – they make me feel understood and they encourage me to fight even when I feel like throwing in the towel and getting run over by a bus.

I have my writing: my blog and my journal allow me to express myself freely.

I have makeup, and as superficial as it sounds, it makes me feel so much better when I’ve put on the right red lipstick.


This morning, I bought Man’s Search for Meaning by Viktor Frankl on Kindle and began rereading it. I was inspired to read it again after my psychiatrist suggested we try logotherapy as a means to fight the existential vacuum I’ve been in for so long. I read it in college and until now, it speaks volumes to me.

It basically speaks of where to find meaning in life, including creation/action (art), loving someone or something, and rising above unchangeable circumstances. It occurred to me that I have all three – so why not choose to live, and live happily? Why not find meaning in those beautiful things I am so lucky to have been blessed with?


Let’s face it, depression is a bitch to fight. It constantly lies to you about your image, your self-worth, and the meaning of your existence. It’s hard to always be grappling with your brain.

Still, today, I choose to feel determined that I can overcome this, as I have all the trials in my life. I choose to be grateful. I choose life, and above all, I choose hope.

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