I’ve been working on practicing gratitude lately – I write out things I am grateful for or sometimes my boyfriend and I do it together. Sometimes it feels like a pointless exercise and sometimes it feels like a wonderful reminder of the blessings in my life.
When I think about being depressed though, I would get so angry when anyone would suggest gratitude. I had friends and counselors suggest it, as if just changing my attitude a little could lift me out of the huge black void that I was drowning in. I often had a lot to be grateful for – I had great friends, good food, often a job that I loved, basic necessities met, a beautiful area to live in… didn’t matter. Depression trumps everything. There can be all the air in the world, but you’re still suffocating. A huge banquet and you’re starving. In retrospect, I can see how very chemical my depression was because good things, people or circumstances didn’t make a dent in it for me.
So I guess I’m grateful for the right medication. I try to focus on that and not being bitter that it took 15 years of trying medications (and years before that of not knowing I needed it).