The fight at the end of the tunnel

It's easy to fall into a horrible mood and become entirely convinced that you will never be able to escape it. It happens to me quite often. My dismal outlook on reality is often further compounded by a lingering doubt that I will ever truly return to contentedness. I subconsciously perpetuate my foul temperament by assuring myself that breaking out of my misery will be some epic feat. Yet, perhaps two hours later, for one reason or another, I could be sunny and cheerful as I could be. The moment continues to change, and nothing stays the same forever, so such a doubt is entirely irrational. I experience depression now and then, but it rarely sinks my spirits for very long. I've fairly given up attempting to justify many of my moods. I don't believe I should torment myself by constantly searching for the rationale behind them, when there very well could be none at all. I still have the habit of blaming bad moods on certain stimuli left and right, such as too much school-related stress, loneliness, or lack of things to look forward to in the immediate future. Those could very well be factors that cause my foul moods, but perhaps they could just as easily be the most negative factors in my life that I naturally consider when chemical reactions in my nervous system summon emotions commonly perceived as 'negative.' Just as I can rarely hope to explain the origins of the euphoria that washes over me at certain times, I can't explain sudden bouts of melancholy, either. I must remind myself that a miserable day today never automatically equates to a horrible day tomorrow, and that is what enables me to go to sleep, content in the knowledge that each day is a different flower. A large quantity of flowers together in a patch may create the illusion that each individual is more or less identical, but when examined closely, one notices that each has a few defining features which sets them apart. Rather than mope about and whine about how sad I am, it's much more effective to simply accept it as a part of the gift/curse of having such a deep conscious.

This is bound to be a very stressful week, so writing this undoubtedly helped me more than anyone else. I can look forward to the weekend and the many simple pleasures it provides, and that is enough to motivate me to pull myself through all the routine, humdrum obligations of a typical week. I often consider 'reality' to be nothing more than a continuous series of tests I must pass in order to truly enjoy being alive. And I pass them anyway I can, because there is never one 'right' way. There are infinite routes one can take through life, comprised of the thousands of decisions one makes unconsciously everyday, so how do we know if we are on the optimal route? I don't believe one should even bother with such a question, and simply trust their heart to guide them in the right direction. You can complicate life beyond comprehension, or you can break it down and simplify it so you can go through it with a clear head and a thorough understanding. Life truly is what you make of it, and few people seem to realize just how much power they have. How deep you are willing to delve into life's mysteries simply depends on how much you're willing to risk being crushed by the psychological weight you piled upon yourself and buried alive. A deep thinker is likely to encounter a greater degree of emotional suffering than a shallow fool, but I would never trade the sort of enlightenment and power I have for the ignorance and helplessness of a shallow fool. I no longer struggle to decode the meaning of life, for I know what I'm living for. Why I am so characteristic of a wolf, on the other paw, is an entirely different loaf of bread. That presents yet another thing I can dedicate my life to, though-- finding the answers. I have every reason to be... don't you?