It Only Takes a Minute

Last week I woke up and realized something was off. An overwhelming sense of sadness and feeling of being alone in the world covered me like a fog rolling in over Puget Sound, my path forward obscured.

The feeling weighed heavy on my spirit as I contemplated the cause of my melancholy. Was it the 35 nights of sleeping less than four hours? The isolation of working from home as a relentless pandemic continued to rage, taking the lives of those we love. Could it be that I miss the touch of another human, in the form of a hug, a kiss on the cheek, or even a friendly fist bump.

Tears flowed as I sat on the edge of my bed pondering why today? What was the tipping point for me, a strong and proud woman who prides herself on toughing it out on her own. In that moment, I did what my mother taught me and sat still in prayer.

You are not alone…was the answer I heard.

I reached out to my mother and my children and simply said “I am suffering from a bit of depression. The last month has been so challenging at work and I am missing family…I am exercising and eating right to take care of myself..this will pass and if not I will call a counselor…”

Acknowledging what I was feeling to the people I love most, helped to begin the process of clearing the fog. I reached out to more people in the following days to schedule meet ups, knowing that human connection would serve as a balm for my soul. I shared my struggle with trusted friends and family, receiving the unconditional love and support I believed to be crucial for my healing.

It occurred to me that I am not alone in these feelings. As a society our mental well-being has been pushed to the edge of human capacity. I cannot be the only person in need of human compassion and love. So I’m asking you to reach out to someone you’ve not heard from or connected with in a few days, weeks, months, or years to say “hello, I am here and I love you”.

It only takes a minute.