Depression is like an ink spill. It’s is like walking through a place of vivid color. There’s sunshine. Crisp fall leaves of vibrant reds, oranges, yellows..
and all is peaceful and full of subtle beauty. Suddenly though it’s like someone spilled ink on the pretty picture you’re in — all around the edges, and it’s slowly soaking up toward you from all directions.
A spill may be because you’re feeling inadequate. A spill because you weren’t the best wife, mother, friend that day. A spill because Mother’s Day is around the corner and you’ve done nothing about it.
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