So. Depression. PTSD. Brain fog. I normally don’t get too deep into deeply personal stuff–at least not in/on social media. That said, I feel like I owe my readers some sort of explanation. I’ve been fighting the depression for a year now. It ebbs and flows, as it does. And that’s okay. I can usually deal with it. But when the flow coincides with Tuesday’s date, it can get ugly. And it’s been pretty ugly lately. I’ve seen and done a lot of things in my life. And each event leaves a layer on my psyche. Hell, that’s the way it works for all of us, yeah? *nods* I’m not special. I don’t deserve extra care or attention. It is what it is. And it’s damned  inconvenient, which pisses me off, which makes me want to get better, which depresses me when I don’t, and….so the spiral begins. It suchs. But it is what it is and I usually deal. This year, the date snuck up on me and since I conldn’t pinpoint a cause (until like…Sunday! 🤦🏼‍♀️ ), the spiral was tighter and faster as things seemed to spin out of control. Figuring out the trigger to this semi-prolonged episode was a 💡 moment. I think I’ve managed to slow the downward spiral, if not actually stop it. Yesterday, I got ten pages revised. Today, I hope to get at least 20, if not finish the book. No pressure. Baby steps. And all that jazz. I know my head. Which is both good and bad. Anyway, that’s my story. Here’s a message from the Big U that helped me get my head on a little straighter on Tuesday. I hope it brings a little ray of sunshine to you.

Silver, what wouldn’t you give to live, love, and be happy, deliriously happy, forevermore?

Well, that’s just it, you needn’t give anything, Silver. Just decide to live, love, and be happy, deliriously happy, from this moment forward.

And I shall provide,
The Universe
©www.tut.com

Silver, there are no other rules when it comes to these things.

One more “story,” if you will. I was out Tuesday, driving, when I got a call from my oldest best friend (and former roommate from college and after). She knows me–sometimes even better than LG, which is saying something. She’d come across something dated April 29, 1982, and she thought about calling me on that date. Instead, she had the urge to call me on the 19th. Luckily, I was pulling into a parking lot shortly after our usual chit-chat ended. She said, “I have something I want to read to you.” And she did. It was a bit of prose. I’m pretty sure I have a copy of it stuffed in some forgotten file somewhere around here because I’d written it. By the time she was done, we were both crying shamelessly. Damn, but I’d needed that. The reminder that I CAN write from the heart as well as the tears. By the time we said goodbye, I knew I was gonna be okay. I knew the way up. And I’m headed there. And yeah, I just need to decide to live, love, and be happy. How about you?