I am Autistic. Among other issues I have dealt with in my life, I have faced depression so many times it is nearly an old and trusted associate.
I’ve looked into the abyss with the thought ringing in my head that today — now– might be a good time to end it all. To date, I have always managed to convince myself that “Yes, that is a possible answer, but it is not yet bad enough for it to be the only answer.” And, one faltering step at a time, backed away from the edge of that abyss.
These days, it is not as tough as it used to be. I now find I can not immediately remember the last time I went through that process. Perhaps I may even find it to be a thing of the past. But if not, I know I have made it through before, I can do so again.
In a book I borrowed from the library, many, many years ago, I found this card used for a bookmark. It is just about the same exact size as a credit card and all it contains is a poem entitled Our Lives and at the bottom it says, Compliments of Thomas L. Saxon.
I have added it to the photo below.
(Click to enlarge.)
The original card is now battered and faded and all but worn out from all the years in the wallet. In that respect, a lot like the one who carries it.
I can’t say I have lived up to the ideal expressed in this card every day, but there have been times when it stayed my anger in response to some foolish action on someone else’s part, times it kept me from saying something hateful, though the words demanded to be set free. There were times when I felt too tired or was in need to be somewhere else and didn’t have the time to help, but did anyway after thinking about what that card said. There were nights I did sleep better knowing that perhaps I had not done a lot in making the world better –perhaps all that I had done would never even be noticed — but I knew I had done a little bit. And some days, that little bit is all it takes to make a difference for someone. Even if that someone is only yourself.