Shine On

I like to look at sappy, uplifting pictures and videos on a regular basis as a reminder of the good in the world.

See, for years I used to go to great lengths to mask my essential optimism and romanticism about life because I was terrified of being so open with other people. I thought that I had to present a tough, cynical front to the world in order to protect myself against the harm others would do to me. It wasn't long before cynicism ceased being a mask and soon became who I was. In the span of just a couple of years I had gone from being a decent, nice, fun-loving person to one who no longer cared to be around others, one who openly mocked everyone and everything that he saw, one who scowled and sneered more than he smiled.

It wasn't long before the mask that I wore soon became my real face. It was no longer a front, but my true self. I wasn't capable of realizing it at the time, but my fear of being hurt had turned me into a foul creature, a thing of darkness that was terrified of the light. I had essentially turned myself into a Gremlin. I became a mean, isolated, selfish, self-involved, hateful alcoholic.

The worst part was how deeply I hated myself.

For years I had lived on the memories of the wonderful things I had done when I was younger, telling myself that I was still that person. While in high school, I had volunteered several days a week at a day care center in an economically-depressed neighborhood. I had regularly worked at soup kitchens. I led the Amnesty International Chapter at school. I did things, I was involved with the world around me, and I loved it. After I graduated from college, I packed my bags and moved to Taiwan on a whim. I stayed there for a year, teaching English and exploring the city of Taipei, and then moved to Quito, Ecuador for a while.

When I returned home to Chicago, however, things began to spiral out of control. I started drinking more, I stopped venturing outside so often, I began to have terrible anxiety that soon progressed into panic attacks, and I fell into a severe depression. Over the next several years, things just got worse for me, to the point that I was pretty much a permanent stumbling drunk. I didn't want to see my children or my wife, and I fantasized about running away and starting over in a different country.

Fortunately, I hit bottom and sought help. I've been sober for nineteen months now, my anxiety has mostly been tamed, and I've rejoined the ranks of the living. The point is that there are a lot of people out there who are suffering, and they're paralyzed by their pain. Please know that it can get better. You can help to pull yourself out of your funk and start anew. People all over the world do it everyday. You're not to blame for your situation. You didn't make yourself depressed or anxious, and you didn't decide to become an alcoholic or an addict. You are suffering from a disease, albeit a disease that has a horrible social stigma attached to it.

If you do need help, please seek it. It's out there. There are literally millions of people all over the world who are ready, eager, and trained to help you regain your self. Don't wait another day. You aren't meant to suffer for another moment.

Returning to my initial point, here are twenty-five pictures of people doing wonderful things. I would look at these when I was at my lowest and they would bring tears to my eyes. It was a small ray of light that had somehow pierced the cloud cover that had surrounded me, reminding me that the Sun is always shining, even on the darkest of days.

ENJOY.