I went for a walk this afternoon. I was feeling low. Super low. Down where the very dark thoughts live, kind of low. 

It was rain-snowing out when I left the house, but I didn’t care. I needed to somehow shake my inner voice, “mean girl” who was kicking my ass.

It felt like with every step the voice got even more cruel, and in hindsight maybe it was because it knew I would leave it behind in the rain. That somehow, the blood pumping, and brisk wind would make me remember that being alive is good. But before I got to that part, as my terrible thoughts and nasty self talk was beating me further down, this happened. 

I started to cry. I cried in the rain and I took a picture. 

And bit by bit I started to feel better.