choosing hope

I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection. My face was pale, my eyes sunken, and I looked like I hadn't slept in days. But despite the exhaustion and the sadness that seemed to be weighing me down, I felt a glimmer of something else: determination.

"You have no power over me," I said to my reflection, my voice barely above a whisper.

"You sure 'bout that?" came a voice from behind me. I turned around to see my friend, Maya, standing in the doorway.

Maya had been my rock through some of the toughest times in my life, and I knew that I could trust her with anything. But even so, I hesitated for a moment before answering her question.

"I'm not sure," I admitted. "But I want to believe it. I want to believe that I can overcome this."

Maya walked over to me and put a hand on my shoulder. "You can," she said firmly. "You're stronger than you realize. And even when it feels like everything is falling apart, you still have the power to choose how you respond."

I looked at Maya, feeling a mix of gratitude and frustration. I knew that what she was saying was true, but sometimes it felt like my depression had a hold on me that I couldn't shake.

"I know," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But it's hard. It's so hard to keep fighting when it feels like I'm never going to win."

Maya squeezed my shoulder. "I know," she said. "But you're not alone. And even when it feels like you're at your lowest point, there's still hope. You still have the power to choose hope."

I looked at Maya, feeling a glimmer of something else: hope. Maybe she was right. Maybe I did still have the power to choose how I responded to my depression. Maybe I could still find a way to keep fighting, even when it felt like I was in the midst of a losing battle.

And with that thought, I took a deep breath and squared my shoulders. Maybe Maya was right. Maybe I did still have power over my depression, after all.