Hello again, dear readers. Let’s talk about change. Change can be a great thing, or it can be a not so great thing. It can also affect your life in ways you never dreamed possible.
The first morning I woke up after receiving my diagnosis, things had already changed. I laid in bed and thought about it all. Though the medication hadn’t even had time to kick in yet, I already felt different. Just knowing that I had help, and knowing that I had a way to combat all of these feelings was a little shining ray of hope.
That day, dear readers, despite being only two weeks ago, stands out to me as a massive turning point in my life. I was able, for the first time, to imagine my future as something happy. I was able to imagine a future where maybe, just maybe, I could be content with what I had and I could be happy with when I had done in my life. Now, dear readers, don’t make the mistake of thinking that I was miraculously cured, or suddenly happy, because I wasn’t. No, I was still the same old me. Still an empty sack of human being, emotionless and gray. But amidst all that gray, I was able to catch that little ray of hope, simply because I knew I wasn’t alone.
The thing about being alone is that you get used to it. I myself got so used to it that I never thought to turn to anyone else for help. I was so terribly accustomed to the feeling of not being able to share with anyone that when the time came, I was still hesitant. If I had known how much it would help to share, I would have long ago. I urge you, dear readers, share. You’re not alone.
Hope, for me, was sharing. Hope, for me, brought change. And change, for me, was what I had been searching for.