Waiting for good days

When will they finally come?

You should try to enjoy days of your life or, at least, be aware that such a choice exists and is available to you.

Joy is right here — just reach out and catch the moment.

Depression is what renders you blind to those illusive threads of joy sewn into the space around you. It’s a rogue condition. Some things can be done to improve it. Antidepressants can help — I’m a testament to that. Psychotherapy can help too — again, proved in practice.

That I know what to do with.

I still have to figure out what to do with this other condition.

The condition where the space around you becomes deficient in threads of joy. Other threads are being sewn in. Threads of sorrow. Threads of misery. Threads of loneliness. Threads of endless misfortune. Just no or very few threads of joy. My mental vision is, apparently, too weak or too poor to detect them. Maybe, vice versa, it’s too good and too sharp. Hence, I see those other threads so vividly I can’t take my eyes off them. They’re so fat, so thick, so tragic.

I’m not a fan of tragedy. I don’t necessarily hunt for tragic news. I don’t read true crime to add more tragedy to my life. I just happen to see it around, ignore-less, and that’s more than enough to make me unwell…