The one thing I’m most proud of in this past year is the sense that improbably, imperceptibly, and incrementally I’ve grown to be more me. I used to carry a great weight of remorse about my choices, about living a life that doesn’t conform to cultural expectations, & about having a history marked more by depression & loneliness than joy & connection. The more I’ve accepted who I am & what I’ve done, the more joy & connection I’ve found—& the more joy & connection I’ve found, the more I’ve accepted who I am.
Being depressed is a lot about feeling stuck. It’s a lot about feeling that your life doesn’t change, that you just spin your wheels in the much & the dreck & you’re just so tired. The thing is, however, that change happens. However paradoxical, it’s an immutable fact that everything changes. I’m not one of those people who believe that everything happens for a reason—there’s much in this world that’s entirely random and meaningless, & I’m grateful for that—but everything does happen.
Everything does not, however, happen as you plan, or necessarily as you want, but happen it will. The more work you put into things happening, the better the chance is that what will happen will somewhat conform to your hopes & dreams, but that’s not a given. Only that things change is a given.
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