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Tuesday, January 13, 2015

She'll be right

For the first time since the Henrik disaster; since my father-in-law, my best friend's wife and my mother died; since the GFC and all that meant for me and our income--for the first time I feel OK.

People always equate sadness and depression.  But they're not the same at all.  Believe me, I know.  Sadness is pain; it hurts.  It's alive.   Depression is a nothingness, an emptiness, a greyness.  First there was sadness and grief.  Then came depression.  But slowly that greyness has faded.  I won't say I have the energy and joie-de-vivre I had 7 years ago, or when I was young, but I feel  better.  It's been a horrible journey; I've been to hell and back, but I've survived.

I've learnt some good lessons.  I shan't trust love or men again.  I shall go on looking for things to be grateful for, making my little lists each day.  But I shall be content.  Which isn't the same as 'happy' but may be better in the end.  Contentment is far better than depression.

I think I'm going to nuke the secret on-line diary I've been keeping all this time.  It helped when I needed it: somebody to vent to, somebody to let my bitterness and anger and depression out to.  None of my 'friends' helped.   That too is a useful lesson.  Just because I'm no longer depressed doesn't mean I don't remember.  Even if I forgive.

And start saving for our visit to Paris, one day.  I want to see it once again before I die.

Onwards and upwards.

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