My Little Black Dog

So words have not come easily. I disagree with what I said last about having dark places. They aren’t dark, only uncharted.

I don’t know when it started, but sometimes it feels like it’s always been there.  Some people call it a dark cloud, others a black dog. I just call it depression.

I share my story to give hope. I have no medical knowledge on the subject. I cannot give advice, because I haven’t overcome it. But I do have a desire to share.  My words may not be whole, but they are mine and this is my story. 

“Why should I even bother? What's the point, really?"
He thought for a moment. "Who says there has to be a point?" he asked. "Or a reason. Maybe it's just something you have to do.

~ Sarah Dessen, Along for the Ride

I’ve been trying to figure out the exact words to say. And they don’t seem to come. I’m not perfect, but I want to seem that way. Imperfection makes me want to throw in the towel and forget that this was ever a possibility. But I can’t, I must continue…

I have so many secrets and dark places, but all will be told in its time. Cheers to new times and places.