I wrote this note yesterday, during a painful hangover. I felt emotionally depleted, helpless, lost, and trapped. I then decided to go for a run, during which I broke down crying halfway through.
There I was, out in the middle of the woods, sobbing uncontrollably. I cried and cried and cried. I cried until I had nothing left to give, till the well of my tear ducts ran dry. It was painful, but it was cathartic. Necessary.
Then, something strange happened. I felt something small, but distinct, bloom inside of me.
A seed of hope.
It seemed as though the flood of tears had watered down on the pile of shit that was my life at that point, nurturing a seed that was buried somewhere deep down in there. And I had this vision. A vision of a tiny seed, cracking open, with the tiniest sprig of a leaf attempting to burst through.
And that seed, for me, was hope. It was tiny, and I didn’t necessarily believe in it. But I knew I wanted to hold onto it with all my strength. Albeit small, that seed meant something. It showed me the existence of something I didn’t believe lived inside me.
Upon realizing that, a strange sense of relief came over me. I suddenly felt….joyful? Like a giant weight lifted off my shoulders.
And as I finished my run home, I felt myself shedding the sadness, and replacing it with hope. And that made me happy.