Sometimes I wish I was young again.
Going up north to visit my mother in physical rehabilitation has taken its toll on her and me. I’ve come to realize that my recovery and hers have marked similarities; one being that it is painfully slow. I want so bad to be better, just to snap my fingers and have all the pain and the agony taken out of me, the sadness that is my depression. But it lingers on.
Another similarity between us is that we have to keep positive attitudes if we’re going to survive. The negativity and negative thoughts are so prevalent; it’s hard to ignore their power. They surge in like waves of the ocean, sweeping in suddenly and powerfully, and it takes those small reminders to keep yourself above water. One great big powerful antidote for me is my little baby:
He’s my little optimistic sunshine to each day.
