Gosh time is flying.
I'm 30 years old now. Married. A dog, some cats. A mortgage, cars. Happy. For a very long time, I wasn't sure if I could be happy, at least not in the way that I am today. I still recall pouring myself into the my creative works, drinking perhaps a little too much, and indulging in hours and hours of video games several years ago.
Yesterday though, I was happy to lounge around the house with my wife. Without realizing it, I felt alive. I've had a few other days like that over the course of 2023, but each one only felt like a fever dream. Not real. And even the summer days would evaporate too quickly to latch on enough to realize this was real.
I'd say throughout my early 20s, and certainly before that, I had battled through depression. I quite literally remember telling myself to keep pushing on, it'll be worth it eventually. There were many many years it wasn't worth it. Now, I look to many years where it is. Now, when...
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