@stin.ooo A journaling exercise for depression. I write about a joyous time in my life, the first words that come to mind, what I remember noticing around me, what I was doing, where I was in that time of my life, and why I’ll ever forget this memory. Then, I write about a time of sadness and struggle. I write about standing in front of the mirror to see if I looked as sad as I felt. I write about feeling like I needed to hold myself up, because if I didn’t, I’d collapse, and I didn’t want to be dramatic. I write about letting my arms swing next to me as I rocked back and forth from the balls of my feet to my heels, feeling the weight of my body shifting on the plastic hardwood floor. I write about how my eyes appear larger with tears in them, how the irises turn a light brown when I cry, and how I took a moment to wonder why I find my usual dark chocolate eye color less attractive than this wet honey gold. I write about examining the rips in my irises, more obvious in my new eye color, some triangular stripes and some jagged holes. I write how my mouth twisted around, distorted with the desire to reign in my emotion and the need to gasp for air at the end of a long sob. I write about how my cheeks droop, and how they make me look like my mother when she’s mad. I write, “It’s all very uncomfortable, and I’m glad nobody can see me.”⠀
I read my happy memory. I read my sad one. I go repeatedly between the two, feeling a bit psychotic with polarizing emotions, but eventually mellowing out, realizing these two memories have passed, and distracting emotions aside, I’m okay right now in the present. I repeatedly reread this last line, “I’m okay right now in the present” until I’ve convinced myself it’s true.