Ambivert

I wonder how the bird whose wings were cut off looks at the sky? With rage? With regret? With grief? Despair? Love? Peace? Maybe it looks at the sky with grief , remembering what it once had. Maybe with rage , because something precious was taken. Maybe with regret , because the sky still calls but can’t be reached. Maybe with despair , realizing the distance between longing and reality. Or maybe strangely, beautifully with love , because the sky was once home. And perhaps even with peace , because after fighting and hurting and yearning, sometimes a living thing learns to rest in what is left.

It's so difficult to describe depression to someone who's never been there, because it's not sadness. I know sadness. Sadness is to cry and to feel. But it's that cold absence of feeling that really hollowed-out feeling. -J.K. Rowling My take on it- That cold, hollow feeling can make you believe that nothing will ever change, that this emptiness is all there is. But even in that quiet numbness, there is still a small part of you that wants relief, that wants warmth again, and that part matters. Depression may take your energy, your colors, your sense of yourself, but it cannot take your ability to heal. Feelings can return slowly, like the first light before sunrise. You might not notice it at first a tiny spark of interest, a moment of calm, a breath that feels a little lighter but those small moments are signs that you are still here, still capable of feeling, still capable of hope. You are not broken. You are tired, you are hurting, and you are human. And being hum...