I was thinking about a friend of mine the other day, a friend who struggles with depression. The more I thought about her, and the more I thought about her feelings and difficulties, the more I wanted to write down what I was thinking, so in the middle of rush-hour traffic, I whipped out my notepad, fumbled around in my center console for a pen, and steered with my left knee while I wrote my thoughts somewhat illegibly.
What you are thinking at any particular moment colors your outlook. When you’re sad, it’s hard to imagine being happy. When you’re alone, it’s hard to imagine being together with someone. When you are in love, it’s hard to imagine being heartbroken.
In the heat of summer, it’s hard to imagine snow. In the cold of winter, it’s hard to remember spring. But spring always comes. Always.
One time, lots of years ago, a close friend and I were driving around late at night. A friend of ours had killed himself a few days earlier, and it was so much on our minds that in the consuming silence, interrupted by the drone of the engine, he blurted out, “When do you think we’ll stop thinking about it all the time?” To us in that moment, it was hard to imagine a time when it didn’t consume our thoughts.
I am with Abby now, my wife of nearly six years. It’s hard to imagine life without her, life without being married to her. When I was single, it was hard to imagine being married, or even just not being lonely. All I could imagine was that my life would be lonely forever.
But spring always comes. Always.
That, then, is my message to my friend who suffers and struggles right now. It won’t be easy for her to believe, but in the end, she will believe it. Spring always comes.