Celebrate The Ordinary: Day Three (or four if you're counting)

Those are my antidepressant pills, and every morning for thirty years I have swallowed them.  Gratefully.  

It was not always so--gratefulness, that is.  Not at first

I resisted for a long time because I thought it meant I was weak,

or crazy

or pathetic

or a failure
and a disgrace to God. 
That couldn't be me! I was a cheerleader, for crying out loud; voted "girl most likely to succeed!"
And now I wanted to kill myself???
I took the pills: they went down easy compared to my pride.
Slowly, with great effort, I came to my senses
Three steps forward, two back, I found my right mind. 
The pills alone did not give me my sanity, but they made it possible to regain it.
Taking the pills was one of the kindest things I had ever done for myself.
Thankfully, it is now a daily, 
ordinary thing.