May flowers. And other things.

Starting tomorrow, you might hear about mental health. Strike that. Over the next thirty-one days, you’ll likely hear about mental health. Because May’s the month. Mental Health Awareness.

I know. Every month’s got something, right?
(hope you’re still reading)
(if you are, please keep going)

But in May it seems we get more comfortable turning the spotlight on the invisible. Sorta.
It still lands a bunch of ways.
Ignored. Explained. Embraced. Feared.
We’re all over the map.
And so is the struggle.

My guess is that you’ve been there. At some point.
My hope is that you’ve been there. At some point.
Maybe not ill, but symptomatic.
Fog. Mental loops. Reactions on repeat. Stuck. Low.

If you’ve ever lived in that neighborhood, even rented, two words.
Me, too.

Mine’s depression. Partly physiological. Partly Todd-ilogical.
A med and prayer and light in the corners help.
And loved ones. Beautiful, kind, lovely humans. They’re there. Even there. And then.
Please. Tell someone who you trust. Risk it.
People make good crutches.

I know I’ve shared all this before.
But I wanted to again.
In front of Door #5.
If you’re limping, let’s walk through it.
Direction beats speed.
Worth trumps mess.
.
(hope you’re still reading)
(if you are, please keep going)