Good to be Wrong

My imagination is vivid and I create my reality and forget sometimes that it is only a mirage; an image composed from my perspective and drawn from my own unique pallet of mental colors.

Yesterday I hit an artery of anger that had been building up pressure in my soul. Projecting a simplistic view of a person I love, I vented my anger into a furious letter, cried for hours, took a Zanax, and fell asleep. Fortunately in this hurricane of emotion, I was able to stay connected to a voice of sanity that kept me from doing anything stupid.

“Bridgette, you can do this. This feels awful, but it isn’t your fault, and it will pass. Your pain is real and you have a right to your feelings. I’m here for you and I’ll help you through it.” I had enough faith in myself to listen and I made it through the night.

Today I talked to this loved person in my life. I opened up with some vulnerability and so did he. It took so much courage and love to reach out and take a risk, but I’m so glad I did. I feel less alone in the world today because I set my fears aside and did something hard.

Sometimes life is beautiful and kind. Sometimes people do the right thing. Sometimes relationships can be saved. Depression is like a dark pair of glasses; everything looks dreary and black. I’m so grateful that sometimes I’m wrong and things are better than they seem.

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