“Do you even celebrate anything these days?”
Dr S asked me, as if to challenge me. I think he felt like I was a body of negativity. And when I dared him regarding my diagnosis of depression…
“Hmm yeah my birthday. But I hated that. Then hmm. Oh yes. Those 300 days.”
“300 days is a feat worth celebrating. So how? How did you celebrate it?
“Erm… I used my ballpoint pen to draw the numbers 300 with flowers, took some stupid photos on the bus as evidence. Then yeah.”
“There you go. You see, Stephanie. For you there’s nothing to be happy about. There’s nothing to celebrate.”
I looked at him and shrugged my shoulders. Every ‘celebration’ is a struggle for me. Honestly.