The raucous tones of the alarm clock shook me from the blissful place where I had been standing. The strain of reality settled onto my chest as I reached to silence the intruder. Without uttering a word, I pleaded for nine more minutes just to see…just to know…to hope for what would happen next. Though I was bound to reality as if it were super powered magnet, I continued searching for that wonderous dream place four more times. At last, when hope had run dry, I relented to the alarm. Once the dream had escaped through the cracks of my consciousness, I was unable to discover the ending.
Depression settled around me that day like a fog near a large body of water in the pre-dawn hours of a cool November morning. It was an ordinary, bright day but my visabilty was limited to a few feet in every direction. Even the sunniest disposition of my dear friend was unable to burn off my gloominess.
It was not a surprising dream. I had wished the wish before. I had dreamed the dream before. Once it had consumed me to the point of evaporating the life around me. Realizing the damage I had done, I accepted my prior decisions and embraced prior commitments.
I thought I had terminated the desire for that dream. I envisioned my acceptance of a life that could be pleasing just the way it was. My depression, at first, stemmed from yearning for an extrodinary life. Then it mutated into depression cultivated by failure to embrace the life I have. It pains me to know that as good as my life has become, I contined to desire something else.