I wake up each morning wondering if the life I’m living is one worth it.
I wonder if the choices I make today are the decisions that happiness will bring me tomorrow.
And I dread that one day I will say I regret.
How can you live in the moment, in the now, if you are always trying to plan for peace?
How can you be content when there is so much more to do?
I wonder when my time will run out.
I ponder If my depression adds value to the important moments.
Is my depression not a handicap but fuel for the jet taking me to a life worth living?
To a life full and empty and calculated and spontaneous and happy and sad and full of regret or hazardously without?