It was sometimes the darkest of moments when I lay sulking on my bed curled up in my warmest blankets that depression consumed my entire being. There I lay on my back staring at the sterile ceiling feeling cold and withdrawn. I didn’t want to talk to anyone and didn’t want to see anyone. I certainly didn’t want to go anywhere either.
And then I would turn on my side and I would pull the blanket a little closer…and a voice would come to me and tell me that I couldn’t lay there forever. I would fight with that inner voice in my mind and tell it to go away thinking that yes I could certainly lay there forever if I wanted to.
However, I knew better.
I knew I was more than a stationary object, like a boulder or mountainside. I was moving, changing always like a stream, a tree, a flower blowing in the wind. I was constantly moving and I could not fight against that…no matter how hard I tried. Everything around me changed and forced me to submit myself to the elements around me—but how I reacted to it was completely my choice.
Sure, most things were out of my control—moving at least fifteen times before I graduated high school, living with foster families, and being subjected to mental and physical abuse. Yet, it was also my choice to think positively—to choose what feelings I allowed inside of me.
I could remain lying in my bed wishing for my life to be over…
I could pull the sheets down, lift my legs out of bed, stand up, and open the curtains to let the light inside.
Even boulders and mountains can be changed—given enough time.