Why I Believe in Finding the Positives in My Struggle With Depression


My depression is a boon, as it allows me to feel each precious moment in my life to the fullest.

Today I got up in the morning and had my first cup of hot black coffee watching the sun rise. I felt lucky to be able to have a view of the mountains, although I live in a bustling overpopulated city. The gentle breeze filled my heart with joy, with gratitude. I sipped my coffee, which was the perfect temperature today. Then I picked up my crochet needle and continued working on my multicolored cushion cover. I hummed under my breath, and then decided I wanted to sing aloud. So I sang. I smiled. I saw a hawk fly. I heard the rooster crow. I smelled the flowers in the vase. In due time, I made a hot breakfast of Irish oatmeal for my family. I hugged my kids when they woke up, pushed them gently towards the bathroom to brush their teeth. I woke my husband with a kiss and then presented him with a hot cup of tea.

I called a friend and spoke to her, catching up with her life and goings on. Our family had breakfast. A bowl broke, but I just acknowledged that mistakes happen and swept away the shards. The intercom and doorbell rang every few minutes, and I ran to get the phone and the door. Nothing frazzled me. Nothing. I squeezed the joy and beauty out of every teeny tiny mundane moment of my morning and thoroughly embraced it. I did the dishes, shaking my ass to some music. I folded the laundry while listening to my daughter’s chatter. I sorted out a fight between the siblings without losing my temper. I was invincible.

I’m not saying I want to present my depression with an award. Indeed not. I’m not saying I love my depression to death. All I’m saying is that, if I weren’t a person with depression, I might never have known the intense happiness of just waking up in the morning without a lump in your throat or a sense of fear in my heart. I might never have appreciated the mundane stuff in my life like replacing a light bulb, doing four loads of laundry, sorting fights between my kids, cleaning up after everybody in the house, or having no time to catch up on sleep. I kid you not — for a person who faces darkness so many days of the month, my good days are so fantastic that I believe only a person who has been depressed would understand. And appreciate. And celebrate.

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Thinkstock photo via Danielle MacInnes


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