There is a part of success that most people do to recognize. This is the lonely part. This is the part when everyone else decides to quit (except for you) and goes home to rest for a while.
This is the part when nothing seems to fit right. Your endurance is tested. Your determination is tested. So is your patience. So is your temper.
It’s like every step you take is harder than the one before it.
But you can’t stop.
You just can’t . . .

It is easy for someone to say, “Just don’t think about it,” and act as if this is easy enough for someone else to do.
(There goes that word “Just” again)
When it comes to depressive thinking, telling someone, “Just don’t think about it,” suggests our thinking is a choice, which, maybe it is or maybe it isn’t. Keep in mind, this is neither a medical forum nor am I a professional with a professional opinion.  However, I am someone that has lived with depression, which means I understand the struggles on how to interact with my thinking.

Remember something . . .
No classroom teaches experience. You can learn all the theories and you can learn about the ins and outs. You can learn about anything you want but nothing teaches us like experience does.

Experience is something you live through. Experience is when all the lessons in schoolbooks and all the theories go to the wayside.
It comes down to what’s in your gut.

I remember after quitting one of my first sales jobs, the sales manager pulled me to the side to have a quick talk before I left. He understood the position was not a match for me, which was fine.
However, in parting, the sales manager offered a kind handshake and left me with the following words as a gift of motivation.
He said, “Whatever you do, just work real hard and you will get wherever you want to go.”

There was a sponsor I had almost 20 years ago. His name was Nick. He was interesting to say the least. He was tough sometimes and passive on other days. Either way, Nick was my sponsor nonetheless.
One of the biggest takeaways I learned from Nick is that I cannot give in to intimidation and I cannot be afraid to try new things.

“So what if it doesn’t work?”
“Keep going until you figure it out,” Nick would say.

When there was nowhere else to turn and no one left to blame, when all was down, the world was like this big place with too many doorways, too many windows, and too many options for me to consider. And me, I was on my own in a way I had never experienced before. My pockets were empty. I was alone in a new way.
I felt overwhelmed by the idea of rebuilding my life. I struggled to see my ability to adapt or overcome; however, and perhaps, this was when I realized my ability is equal to my belief.

When there is no room left to fall and there is no more damage to take on, all there is was me and my conclusion; I had nothing left to fear. My predictions became true.

There is a commonality amongst us all in which we all grieve and we all fear. No one among us is able to escape the unfortunate and eventual fact that life ends.
This fact is no less true than it is inescapable; and in the stun of the painful news when we lose a loved one, we grieve, and we feel, we lose our breath, and instantly, the world changes because a part of our world is no longer with us.

As I move into new branches of my life, I am reminded of the importance of my choices and which voice I choose to listen to. Understand?
We all have that internal voice. We have that internal monologue, which can often have a way of misleading us from our goals.

Before going forward, I want to be very clear about a few things. Understand that I am not a clinician or a social worker. I am not a medical doctor, psychiatrist, nor psychologist, nor do I want to be.
I am me and I say this proudly.
I am me without apology, in fact, and before going forward, I am not claiming to be a professional or an authority; however, I someone of experience on the matter.

Yesterday was the first hint of spring. The ground is beginning to thaw. I have not seen a red-breasted robin yet but I did watch a brown eagle glide in circles. The eagle swept around behind my house and flew between Horse Stable and Panther Mountain the other day.

One would think I am far from the city but I am not. I am still close but yet I am far enough away that I can disassociate myself with midtown chaos and the Kamikaze cab drivers that speed down Lexington.