Depression is a thief. Robs the colours from the rainbow. The dreams, the hopes, the beautiful colours, I so embrace, had faded to a teasing, taunting background blur. Faded to murky shades of black, of grey, of white.
No, not again. Please, not again. And I lay in bed. Watched the shadows dance upon the wall as the cool autumn breeze drifted in through open window. And I lay in bed. Hardly noting the tears streaming down my cheeks. It had all become too much as I lay there and thought of my sleeping son.
Depression is a thief. It robs you of the joy of the simple things in life. Blocks out the sounds of the singing birds playing gently on the branches of winter trees. Depression is a thief. Steals the wonder from your heart and suffocates with impending doom.
And yet, despite it all, I have received gifts of caring, compassion and hope. You have reached out to me and your kindness is clear, profound demonstration that we can all be here for each other. Thanks to you and thanks to my determination to cling on to those delicate strands of positivity that linger in the back of my mind, the colour is beginning to return. It's a little bit blurry, a little bit hazy, but the uplifting colours of optimism have started to immerse my being. I even heard the sweet sounds of winter birds playing gently on the branches of winter trees.
And thus, thanks to David at, A Day in the Life and Kim and CindyLu, over at, CindyLu'sMuse, for doing guest postings while I have been trying to work through this bout of depression. I am heartened and encouraged by such genuine and inspirational concern. I thank each and every one of you for reaching out to me. For thanks to you and your warm wishes, the thief has been apprehended.
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