when i’m depressed, i tend to forget things. like the times i hugged someone and they hugged back tighter, the times i couldn’t stop laughing and smiling from ear to ear. the thoughtful compliments i received, the genuine looks of surprise and joy i helped put on someone’s face, and the days where nothing important really happened, but i felt happy. but forgetting these things doesn’t mean they never happened. they existed once, and they’re proof that even though i haven’t felt myself for a while, some days in my life can be pretty nice, and there will be more days like that in the future.
My biggest hope for the future is when children read about these times in books, they feel the same anger, disdain, and determination to do better and be better than those in the past as I did growing up.
