I will never escape what I am. Misery makes me comfortable, and contentment makes me uneasy. I will never shake the feeling that where I am is not where I belong.

I could succumb and live my life as many do, in depression, or hiding depression beneath a mask of stoicism.

Instead, I choose to acknowledge each and every victory I achieve over the circumstances afforded me. My daughter’s smile compels me. My son’s cry of ‘daddy’ is fuel to my ambition.

I begin and end my journey with privilege. I cannot escape it. But I will not squander what I’ve been given on the self. My self is bent and broken and worthless, but I am given worth by what survives me. By my children I am compelled.

I would never diminish the suffering of so many with depression, and I have not escaped it, but I have found that which transcends my faults. I would not deny my privilege, but I would not waste it on the pursuit of wealth or fame.

I hope only that from the chaos that is myself, I can help nurture the next generation.

The only thing which survives me is the legacy I leave with my children and I hope I prove worthy to the cause.