This month’s mantra of “Enjoy the questions as much as the answers,” felt prescient after my recent relapse of my depression. It’s hard to enjoy the question of “why”, or worse, the lamentation of “why me” when you feel your suffering is singular. Instead of falling easily into the victimhood of my own disease by lingering on obsessing over elusive answers to the universal “why,” I have been spending the time examining how “why” can become the road signs, flashing its warning before I fall off of the cliff and when nothing or no one is able to keep me upright any longer.

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