@mariegillesp 16 November 2022

Sometimes I think of all the sunny mornings I missed I love Chinese food boxes, stacking leftover boxes on top of each other to build little towers. I like to dip the tea bag in hot water and watch the water slowly change color... I love to watch my beloved sleeping, her calm face and eyelashes dyed red by the sunlight. And I love listening to music at sunrise, Chopin, Schubert and Billie Holiday.

Sometimes I think of all the sunny mornings I missed. The two years I spent sleeping in the dark, soft embrace of depression. Sometimes I miss it. I don't know if that's normal, but I'm tired of being ashamed of my feelings. Yes, I miss my depression sometimes, I admit it. I miss those lazy days when I ran away from my responsibilities, when I did nothing. But only when I'm tired. And only sometimes. There were no Chinese takeout boxes back then. There were no fragrant teas. I didn't have a girlfriend, and I never believed I would. And there was no piano music at sunrise. There was only darkness. Only that velvety softness. It drew me in, wouldn't let me go, whispered deceptive words of love in my ear. I would sit on the couch in the dark with a cup of cold coffee and wonder if I would ever be happy again. I believed that depression would last forever, that no one could help me. What's more, I didn't want anyone's help. I was strangely content with the unhappy place I was stuck in. I was running away from reality. That's exactly what I was doing. From everyday life, from my family, from my friends, from writing. I didn't have a job. I didn't have a purpose, a hobby, a plan, anything I was passionate about, anyone I loved... I had nothing. All my days were the same. I had finally found a way not to live, and that was to die little by little. It was exactly what I needed. One day, while making soup, I was so absorbed in my own unhappiness that I almost burned the house down. That's when I realized I was in this alone. No one could get me out of it unless I wanted to. The following week, I reluctantly started therapy.

You don't have to suffer, my therapist told me. You have gone to the dark side, but we will bring you back. And she did. She brought me out of the darkness, gave me the strength and courage to take responsibility for my life. She showed me that I really didn't have to suffer. Life was hard, but it was also very beautiful. I got all the help I could get, I started yoga, I meditated, I listened to podcasts, I went for long walks and I never turned my nose up at anything that might be good for me, not even those best-selling self-help books. No, no, not even those little fortune cookies that come when I order Chinese food. I never turned my nose up at anything. And I believed with all my heart in the beautiful, encouraging words that came out of my fortune cookie, because I had to. And then suddenly happiness came like a little cat and settled in my lap without an offer. The sunny mornings came back and I realized that happiness was not a destination, but a feeling I encountered on this journey. But now I knew that the rain would not fall forever and that the sun would always reappear in the end. I learned to trust that. Just like I learned not to chase after that little cat called happiness. I left it alone. I let it come on its own.

Now, on this ordinary, sunny morning, surrounded by the little things I love so much, I consider myself lucky to be someone who can find a bit of magic in little things. "I am here," I say to myself, several times in a row. And with swallows in my eyes, I unwrap my fortune cookie from last night and cut it in half. Just be patient, it says on the little piece of paper inside. Beauties you can't even imagine are waiting for you.