Fifty:

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You know how people say there’s a season for everything? Mine happens to be a recurring season, but a season nonetheless. Depression. It’s a doosey. But it comes and goes without warning and all of the sudden I start to feel like myself again.

It’s not gone, at least not for long anyways. But as I feel the heavy waves creeping up on me, I’ll figure out how to keep moving on and clawing my way through it because I control this life of mine, not the little dark cloud that’s really pushy and manipulative and can sometimes trick me into thinking it’s in control.

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