Destination Ursa Major
It’s not an incapacity to cope with day to day living in the modern world. It’s an incapacity to function. At all. If you and your loved ones have been spared, every blessing to you. If depression has taken root in you or your loved ones, every blessing to you, too. No one chooses it. No one deserves it. It runs in families, it ruins families. You cannot imagine what it takes to feign normalcy, to show up to work, to make a dentist appointment, to pay bills, to walk your dog, to return library books on time, to keep enough toilet paper on hand, when you are exerting most of your capacity on trying not to kill yourself. Depression is real. Just because you’ve never had it doesn’t make it imaginary. Compassion is also real. And a depressed person may cling desperately to it until they are out of the woods and they may remember your compassion for the rest of their lives as a force greater than their depression. Have a heart. Judge not lest ye be judged.”
EVERYONE NEEDS TO READ THIS.
Depression is not a synonym for being sad or having a bad day/bad week.
It’s not a PHASE. It’s not a CHOICE. It’s not LAZINESS.
(via general-grievous)
I’m beginning to understand that true recovery only begins when you internalize these truths completely.
You cannot even hope to heal unless you truly believe that depression is a disease.
(via anedumacation)
This is really really important! Everyone better read it.
Forever reblog.
(via daddysdirtymartini)
This is important.
(via story-dj)
(Source: sherunsfromdarkness, via endorphinique)
30 Days of the Gemma Doyle Trilogy
Day Twelve: Favorite Gemma/Kartik Moment
Chapter Thirty Eight of The Sweet Far Thing:
“Do you ever feel that way?”
“Lonely?”
I search for the words. “Restless. As if you haven’t really met yourself yet. As if you’d passed yourself once in the fog, and your heart leapt—‘Ah! There I am! I’ve been missing that piece!’ But it happens too fast, and then that part of you disappears into the fog again. And you spend the rest of your days looking for it.”
He nods, and I think he’s appeasing me. I feel stupid for having said it. It’s sentimental and true, and I’ve revealed a part of myself I shouldn’t have.
“Do you know what I think?” Kartik says at last.
“What?”
“Sometimes, I think you can glimpse it in another.”
And with that, he leans forward as I do. We meet in a kiss that is not borrowed but shared.

