Sometimes, when I’m feeling all depressed, somewhere, deep inside, it’s because I want to be. I’m not proud of the fact that I can throw some pretty epic pity parties for myself. But there are times, when I do.
Then, though, there are these other times. With all my heart and soul, I don’t want to be down.
I have this little metaphorical tool box, when I’m feeling down and I don’t want to be. I open it and I survey the trusty options within:
One of my tools is to hike. One is to read the bible. I network with family and friends. I write. I pray.
Often times, I can find the right tool for the job.
Sometimes, I can’t find which one. It is too much. It is too scary to think I might try one and have it not work. There is this perverse side to hope. If I hold out the hope that something might make things better, it is safer and it is easier than actually trying it. Because if I don’t try it, I can always hold on to the belief that things would get better. But if I actually take it out of the tool box, and do it, and if things haven’t changed… that’s bad.
So there are these times that I just stare into the toolbox, paralyzed.
But the worst is when I reach inside it. And I try the first tool. And the second. And the third.
Eventually the tool box is empty. It’s contents lay around my ankles. I am still sad, or alone, or depressed, or whatever.
It occurs to me: if I had more tools in the toolbox, perhaps I’d have fewer of these experiences of staring into that empty thing.
And so the question of the evening:
What are the tools in your toolbox; what do you do when you’re feeling down?