Earlier today someone asked a group of my friends what kind of year they had had. Overall it seems that most of us have had less than wonderful years, but what surprised me was the way several replied that the year had been unremittingly bad. In the end, I defied anyone to come up with a longer list of disasters than mine, in a challenge like the Notting Hill 'who gets the last brownie?' game. My list (which won) went something like this (chronologically):

A rather grim catalogue, I'm sure you'll agree. But this node isn't to whine about it. Because, despite all that lot, I'm still here. I won't deny I've suffered from depression this year. I've had my suicidal moments.

But right now, I'm sitting in the sun, alive, able to walk (something I seriously doubted at the beginning of the year), able to laugh, and looking forward to Christmas, even if we can't afford flashy food, or expensive presents. I know that I have a family and friends who I love, even when they exasperate me, and who need and love me. I know that I have something to contribute. I know, somewhere deep inside me, that the world would be a poorer place if I'd decided to leave it.

And the same is true of you. Every single one of you.

So maybe it hasn't been that bad a year, after all.

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