I’m so frustrated. A voice, clear as a bell, says in my ear, “Give up.” I’m so exhausted, when will I feel better. I see the voice’s lips, “You won’t.” That voice is a kick in my stomach. I used to believe you when you said, “What’s the point.” I saw only the shadows, which weighed on me like a wet sack of sand. But I’ve pulled back the curtains to let the light in. And behind a pane of glass I see how lucky and blessed my life is. People who love me, who would do anything for me. A roof over my head, clothes to wear, food to eat. “It could be worse!” I yell at the voice. It starts to respond, “No, it couldn’t…” then is choked. All I hear now is the wind. Sure I can’t actually feel the joy on the other side of the window. But sometimes, it opens a crack, and I can smell the warmth on the inside. I know I’ve been in there before, I have vague memories. I can almost taste it. And one day I’ll get back in again. Meanwhile I’m going to wrap myself up in my hope to try to keep warm. And though the wind is cold and strong, I’m staying right here.