This is something my parents wrote to me after I got out of my first psychiatric stay. I also got a little ty Hello Kitty because Hello Kitty and she’s cute and I’m a cute Lolita girl. I cried the first time I read this because it’s so true that we all need to learn to dance in the rain (or whatever it is we like to do. Dancing in the rain is specific to me because it alludes to my love of ballet).
I’m finally dancing in the rain. I’m writing in the rain. I’m painting in the rain. I’m crying in the rain. I’m screaming in the rain. I’m living in the rain. But I’m not drowning in the rain. The character I’m creating in this new book of mine I’ll unveil Friday has to learn how to survive in the rain as well. He has treatment-resistant depression, and many people with treatment-resistant depression fall into thoughts of suicide because they don’t want to live the rest of their lives depressed. I do too. I may never get over suicidal ideation until I’m stable on meds. But that’s why it’s important we learn how to survive in the rain because ultimately some of us have to live moment by moment in order to cherish life. We can’t think of the future, of where we’re going to be or who we’re going to be. We have to accept each moment as precious, even if we find ourselves breaking down at the end of the day.
I don’t want to get into my book though, not until Friday. In any case, I did have a rough time last night, but I’m proud of myself for keeping in mind that even with the underlying sadness, it still is possible for me to enjoy the moment, to have a good day.
I think the biggest trap a lot of us depressed people find ourselves in is that we do have a good day, but we suddenly drown in the sadness at the end of the day, and either we punish ourselves for having a good day, or are so frustrated we’re still depressed in spite of having a good day.
We can’t do that. Accept the happiness when it comes and accept the sadness when it comes. Cry, get angry, go to sleep, and realize tomorrow is another day. Repeat if you must. People in general cannot allow themselves to drown. Drowning is where we get in trouble, where we struggle, where we start to lose our fight.
Stars, I’m freaking fighting. I’m fighting harder than I have ever fought before. There was a gif I saw on Tumblr today, a Doctor Who one where is he asking a man what he thinks of Van Gogh’s work. The man pretty much says Van Gogh is an amazing painter, and by God, Van Gogh is there to hear that and he tears up. Van Gogh struggled with mental instability all his life and allegedly ended his own life. But if he knew how important he was, how important his art was going to become, I wonder if he would have allowed himself to hold on to life a little longer.
I don’t want to fall into any clichés and tell you that it gets better. It might not, but that doesn’t mean you can’t change the lives of others by fighting to live your own. Because you can. That’s why it’s so important to live because you really don’t know the importance of your life and you can’t listen to your sadness when it tries to tell you that you’re insignificant. I do not believe we exist to serve others, but we are human beings and if we have to live to show others it is possible to exist even with pain, then as human beings, we’ve got to do that. We’re individuals, but we cannot exist alone.
I don’t feel any better, but damn it, I’m going to do everything in my power to inspire others to live their lives to the fullest because that’s what I’m doing. I don’t care how depressed I feel anymore. I have accepted the sadness, and I do want to get better, but I can’t let that be my sole reason for getting up in the morning. I have goals for each day now, and I am going to get up and meet them and I am ultimately going to change the lives of others.
You are all stars. You were born from stars, you are made of star stuff, you will die as star stuff, and your star stuff will be used for something important, something amazing; after all, stars do the same thing.