In another dream I was walking outside of a grocery store at night and I realized I was dreaming, so I decided to fly home. I flew above the parking lot and all of the homes.

Then I flew up toward the stars, trying to see how close I could get.

I saw an orange planet (or maybe it was a star) and flew toward it, but it still remained a tiny dot. Flying is so fun.

Really, I should have gone outside today and played, but instead I thought it sounded fun to upload a video. And go through old books. Sometimes having been an only child makes it WAY too easy to entertain myself for hours on end.

What the Bleep Do We Know was one of things that helped me get better from depression–because it challenged what I thought about life and opened up my eyes to something new. I went from thinking that “This is just the way I am” to “It might be possible to change.” Obviously, other things contributed too, but along the journey, this movie had a profound effect.

It made me realize I didn’t have to be a victim.

The scene above in particular. I remember watching this and picturing the neuronets in my brain and how they were firing toward hopelessness and sadness over and over, but that if I could interrupt that process, they would stop firing that way and I could create something new WITHOUT HAVING TO CHANGE ANYTHING IN MY OUTSIDE WORLD.

So I started interrupting. I would sit and cry and NOT write about how bad I felt anymore because it was only reinforcing it. Instead, I would look up positive sayings and write them down, or write positive affirmations that I’d make up. I didn’t believe a word of it. It was like writing the word bullshit over and over. But I did believe in the elasticity of the brain because I saw it was proven, and

Overtime, I started to believe I could change and become someone different.

That movie also taught me that emotions could be addictive–as addictive as morphine. So, I would crave sadness like a drug and need my fix. That is probably why I’ve found before that I kind of LIKE to be sad sometimes and don’t want to get better. Overtime, though, that shift toward feeling positive does feel good. More good than any kind of sadness I can imagine. It’s a good you want to hold on to and crawl into and hold in your heart forever.

I also remember crying and crying and crying to my mom, who is my rock. I wanted her to make me better and stop my pain. I had thought about ending it all for such a long time, that it seemed like I should finally go through with it.

During one of our phone conversations she said to me, “This is so hard for me to listen to. You’re killing me.” Those words were a turning point. I did not want to kill my mom, who I love so much, but sometimes her compassionate listening ear gave me permission to behave at my worst.

I remember too, for years thinking about suicide on and off. Contemplating. After awhile, the level of thought went in a circle: I want to die. I don’t know how to do it. I want to die. I want to end this pain. I don’t know why it always comes to this because I never take the next step. And so on… How much longer can I keep going like this? I can’t…

At that point I had to make a decision. I had to decide what I THOUGHT about suicide—and why or why not? I also had to decide what I THOUGHT about life.

I came to the conclusion that I probably wouldn’t do it— and one of the reasons was because I became more spiritual and started to believe in reincarnation and that suicide can set you back many lives. I also believe we are all connected and my depression fuels the collective depression and I refuse to do that to humanity. A suicide sends out the idea that “this is okay” to the masses. I also read some things about the idea that we “chose” to be here and have this experience called life. If I actually made the decision to be here, I am going to ride it out. Good or bad.

When you consciously choose to live, it’s so much less painful.

Your pain is not the end of the world. It’s just a bad day or a chemical imbalance that you can get treatment for. When you choose to live, most days are boring, but they can still be beautiful. You notice just how short life is and that you might as well find something to enjoy, even if it’s crawling into bed and noticing how cozy, warm, and safe you feel. Or empty. Sometimes it’s good to feel pain and emptiness because it motivates you to change and grow out of old patterns.

If one life is saved, it saves MANY. So when I save myself, I save other people’s lives, and when I find peace it spreads like a wildfire too.