Allow me to explain.
A few nights ago, we watched It's a Wonderful Life. I had hot buttered rum for the first time, which I loved (needs more butter). At the end of the movie, George first realizes that he's back in his own reality when he notices his mouth is bleeding, and Jimmy Stewart is such a delightful actor that Spousal Unit couldn't help wanting to imitate the way he said that line.
That line epitomizes the feel of the whole movie, in some ways. George is happy to know his mouth is bleeding because he knows he's living the life he's supposed to be; in the midst of it all, he's once again surrounded by the blessings and troubles that make up his own life, and he knows the blessings outweigh the troubles.
That's a great movie for when you're fighting depression. Even when I'm not depressed, that movie makes me cry because it's so relatable. Hearing Spousal Unit yell, "Mah mouth is bleedin'!" makes me think not only of the movie, but also of the weird little blessings in my own life.
I sit here in front of my light therapy box, and I'm grateful that my depression is mild enough to treat at home, without medication.
Our apartment is a mess. I'm grateful that we're able to afford all the useless but delightful things strewn about, grateful for the pile of post-Christmas cardboard that needs to go out.
The patio windows are absolutely filthy, and I can't do anything about it about it because they're frozen shut. But I'm grateful to be sheltered from the -11 temperatures outside.
We have so many freakin' plants, and I'm tired of watering them all. But they're all representative of great things: planters for Spousal Unit and I after being hired from our temp jobs. Gifts from family. And the twigs sticking out of planters on the deck, buried in snow because I couldn't clear them away in time, mean that spring really will come again. It always has.
And there will always be sunrises.
P.S. Spousal Unit says he thinks the light is helping. I think it is, too.