I’ve spent the past hour reading a very involving but saddening tumblog from a girl who writes about her depression from a hospital. I get nervous reading things like that, as someone who’s been diagnosed with depression for 18 years now, and still struggles with it.

What surprised me, however, in reading her darkest thoughts and seeing what she thinks of herself, it made me realize that my depression isn’t as all encompassing as it can sometimes feel. Now, there isn’t a day that goes by where I won’t have — at least for a moment — thought something rotten about myself or my future, but there’s many days where that kind of thought only pops up once. Looking at the contents of this blog, I recognized how many times I posted or re-blogged something with an excitement and eagerness to share something I was enjoying. That there is so much of that in my life gives me a reason to keep hoping.