Guilt

I think it's normal to feel guilty for being depressed. I think it's also normal (and important) to fight that guilt.

But feeling guilty for having a good day when you have been depressed... That feeling has sent me spiraling downward more than once recently.

I said I was depressed yesterday - am I not depressed today? And if I'm not, was I really depressed yesterday?

I am finding that depression is a confusing place to live. What is upside-down is often right-side-up, and things that are normally plain are polka-dotted, and sanity is something that people expect, but you are sane, really... You just have to convince yourself of that - and it's awfully hard to do when you have a good day and you can still see the edge right over there. You know its reality - you fear its encroachment. You don't want to be caught unaware if the edge is suddenly before you again.

But I don't want my good days to be driven by the need to legitimize my bad days.

I have noticed that my good days are the days that I take one minute at a time. Even the bad days are more bearable when I do this. Maybe I don't have a perfect yesterday or a perfect ten minutes ago or a perfect plan for the next hour or week or year, but I don't have to die over the fact that this moment is (or can be) a good moment.

Each moment is a gift. That is reality. I want to accept that with an open heart.

I'm taking my daughter and my sister for a walk when I finish this post. The air is clear and the sun is shining as it hasn't shone for over a week. I can hear the neighborhood children playing their daily games outside my study window.

Today, their sound is brighter.

If my heart is a bit lightened, there is no reason for me to hide my smile.