Thriving Admidst the Dark

Sometimes the nothing grips me. Sometimes I lay awake at night not wanting to dream or counting up my thoughts. Wishing I had done something that I changed my mind on. It’s similar to not knowing what to wear. Today, for example, I went through three shirts before I wore the first shirt I looked at, and even then it wasn’t the shirt I wanted to wear.

I went about my day in a good enough shirt instead of the shirt I wanted which was in the laundry. Oh, it was similar but not the shirt. This past week feels like “good enough.” I am on the verge of slipping into the downward spiral of depression. I can feel it creeping up on me as I endeavour to combat it with positivity and cheer. I hide it behind smiles and silence, laughter and chatter, my passions and hobbies. I seek out conversation and mingling with friends.

Don’t worry about me. I know depression. It’s a cycle. It’s not always happy, it’s not always down. Sometimes, the happy lasts for awhile while the sad sneaks in. Depression is why I started writing poetry. It’s my outlet. My coping mechanism. I have always survived. I live to thrive.


The more I think about it, I realize that stress triggers my down-spirals. I’m not good with stress. Me happy-go-lucky, don’t like to deal with the dark. But the darkness is a part of me. This darkness will not go away. When it rises I must face it, do battle, and survive. Dark doesn’t have to be bad. If it was never dark, when would the owls travel? Would they be a completely different creature?


When I slip into this mood, I am bored easily even by the things I enjoy. I don’t want to do anything and want to do everything all at once. I feel my life is crawling. As if I am never going to get anywhere and nothing will change. I know this is not true. It may seem every aspect of my life is stagnant but things are moving at an imperceptible pace. Small increments but change nonetheless. I fight to remember that what I have built here is astounding, jaw-dropping, glorious. Family, friends, work, my animals, my writing; all of it is special. I am blessed.


I am thriving no matter what denials my dark self fills my mind up with. My dreams are within my grasp, I am closer than ever. I am loved. I am going back to college. I am on top of my bills. My dogs love me as well as a certain cat, if the silly thing ever decides to come back home. Don’t just survive, thrive!

Hiking 167
Taken on Cedar Falls Trail, Petit Jean Mountain, Arkansas

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