A friend shared the below quote with me, this evening. We spent a good hour taking about depression. He shared some insight into his past and details of his present state of mind. I did the same. I found that we shared much in common. Years of living behind a stigma (we both grew up in the 80s) and facing the demons now.
I’ve been in a bad place, especially recent. I’ve spent the greater part of my life, since my teenage years, believing the stigma behind depression – “just get over it,” “pray and you’ll feel better,” “suck it up,” “men shouldn’t be sensitive,” “why are you crying?” *Insert appropriate comment here*
I fought back, believing I didn’t need help or it wasn’t a part of me. I believed the stigma. I still fought it as an adult. I couldn’t accept I was depressed or needed help.
We are not the product of our situation or environment. We are not defined by what is in our minds. In the same way, depression is there no matter your situation or environment. It is not dictated by either of those. It is a part of the individual. It also doesn’t make You or I bad or awful people.
I love Robin Williams. I’ve always looked up to him. He’s been a source of happy laughs for me since I was a kid. I could say more, but this quote says a lot.
There it was again. That white flowing dress. It flowed and furled as if tossed by a soft breeze, silk reflecting a bright heavenly light. A light that was the brightest he’d ever seen. The dress glowed radiant with a sparkling golden sash tied in a perfect bow around the waist.
Her; Who was she? He didn’t know. The outline of her face blurred by the light. Soft features, a circular jaw and rosy round nose, filled out her countenance. Cheeks, plush like pillows, rose up so high they looked like they were the only things holding her eyes in place. Those eyes, electric blue with a teasing look embedded deep inside. Her smile was perfect, as were her teeth.
Hair of the purest gold splashed down on her shoulders and fluttered in slow motion on the breeze. Hints of strawberry and soft pink strands highlighted the locks of her hair. He could get lost in her beauty for an eternity. Majestic brilliant white wings spread wide like a gliding eagle.
She was angelic. A celestial being of comforting power.
She approached, floating on a wispy cloud, and stretched out her hands to him. Those hands of perfect olive skin.
“Aiden. Come. Let me take you away from your sadness, away from the darkness that suffocates you.” The voice whispered, layered with a ghost-like echo muffled in a vacuum sealed room.
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Thank you for all your endless support. I keep writing, in part, thanks to each of you and your encouragement. Thank you for reading.