He recently asked me, “When you go through one of your depressions, when you crash what is it like?”
“Catatonic,” i told him “I would sit and stare at something and think, about thinks so much and so fast- until i can remember to ask my self the question.”
“What is the question?” he asked.
“Can i make it tomorrow? Can i wake up tomorrow and get through the day?”
“What do you answer?”
“I think, yea. I might make it.”
“On a maybe you find the will to move on?”
“No. I don’t find the will to move on, i find out if i still have the ability to be optimistic.Without hope, why go on?”