I sometimes don't like to call it "battle".
It surfaces an image of a warrior clad in weight and armor, bruised and cut.
Today, I feel the battle.
But the thought of being a warrior is too much.
Somehow, somehow, somehow we march onward.
We share our struggles.
We understand.
Darlings!
(Can I call us that?)
Today, I want to call myself darling.
Today, I want to say:
Darlings, this battle with depression doesn't have to be our end.