Busy busy day so I’m squeezing under the wire here and will be lighting a candle in my window at 8pm EST.
I’m not sure what to say beyond linking to what I’ve said before (read that over and over if you need it), linking to IASP’s brochure from this year about connecting, communicating, and caring, and reminding you it’s okay to become someone else in order to survive. You have value, you are worth saving, and do what you have to in order to ensure you stay breathing.
In a conversation with a friend recently, I said I felt like hope is a lens in which we see the world, and mine keeps getting broken. Every time I find a new one, it gets cracked, and it’s very hard to live without hope (which is one of the worst parts of major depressive episodes for me).
She said she lives to spite hope. Because fuck you, hope, I don’t need you–I’m still here and fighting regardless.
If you have no hope right now that things will get better–and I hear you, that’s where I constantly live–just say fuck you, hope. You’re not the boss of me. I will live because fuck you, that’s why. If your Hope Lens is broken, cast it aside. Become something, someone else.
Fight.
Breathe.
Live.
Writer of urban fantasy, thrillers/mysteries, and horror.
Holla!