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Let me elaborate, because this is actually not for once my depression talking. This is for once my common sense and rational thinking talking. 

Each of us has something that we dislike about our lives. Each of us has had tragedy thrust into the light of our lives, and we all deal with it in different ways. 

But one thing I know about tragedy, specifically death, is it always leaves a hollow spot in a living persons heart. Once this is achieved, it is irreparable. Sure, we can mask the hollow or insecurity with activities and business, and fill our lives with people and things so wonderful that it is hard to imagine that there is sadness still out there. But deep inside we still feel the loss, sometimes for years, so sharply as it was the first day they left us. 

Therefore, since each of us carries a spot for a loved one, a tattered cherished memory, or a genuinely traumatic event, we each in ourselves carry a lack of wholeness. In this way, each living human carries a burden so unspeakably heavy that sometimes it threatens to crush our very being.

However, in this way, you are not alone. I, among billions of other people manage to survive despite the weight. I do not allow myself to cave into the despair, to wallow in the depths of the holes in my heart because I know that I walk beside people who carry the same weight. 

Me:

I’m not doing so well.

If you’ve never admitted this, then I have to say: you’re probably not doing so well.

Is it okay to say so? Can I be honest about that? I know I’m not supposed to stay there in that dark place, not for long. I know the proper inspiration and theology and clichés to bring me back. I understand I have to crawl to the light soon. But before I climb, I need to tell you:

I’m not doing so well. It hurts. I’m not okay. This is not all right. It’s twisting me in the guts and I’m bleeding from everywhere. Man down. No me gusta. I’m busting up at the seams. And I’ll be down here for a while.

Look me in the eye and tell me it’s okay to say this out loud. Let me feel this out. Let me bleed a little before we clean it up so fast like it never happened. I need to hurt. Then it might be okay.