It would serve me well to remember that life is not all bad sometimes. I have good friends, and one of them extended a kindness to me earlier in the week that has soothed a years’ long pain. That’s cryptic, I know, but that friend eased a portion of my mind that’s been ill at ease for years now. And that’s all I care to say about it.
I have my family, I have dear friends, I have relatively good health, I have photography….all of that is pretty great.
I’ve started transcribing my hand-written journals. They’re all over the house, in different spots, with different memorabilia. The earliest one is from fourth grade, but the ones I have been working on most recently are from my college days and just after. Twenty-one year old angst, and I had plenty of it.
I’m coming to realize that this depression….it’s not new. It’s been there my whole life. That’s one of the great things about having kept a journal for as long as I have, because I am able to look back and see that this is not a new thing and I can see that there’s not some new crisis that’s really making me feel this way. Looking back at these journals lends a great deal of perspective.
That’s all for today.