It’s not that I don’t feel. In fact, I feel too much.

Photo by Jackson Simmer on Unsplash

I am usually known for having answers.

One time a friend actually came out and asked me, with all sincerity, “Do you know how to write in Chinese?”

Naturally, this born and bred American White girl was perplexed.

“Why the hell would she know how to write in Chinese?” the present third party asked.

“Because, she knows everything.”

Well, I can assure you this is not true.

I do not know everything. And I sure as hell don’t know how to write in Chinese!

I am knowledgeable. I’ll admit to that. It’s a natural byproduct of being innately inquisitive and…


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Nike. It was only a few years back I first learned the significance of this legendary trademark. Out of sheer curiosity, I Googled the origins of the international sporting empire’s moniker and was surprised to find the explanation in Greek mythology.

Regrettably, it’s one area of knowledge I am not well versed in, and so — outside the realm of the athletic conglomerate — I’d never before heard of this Nike, this deity of the Greek pantheon, this winged goddess of victory!

I enjoyed one of those moments of clarity when a chunk of life seems, just for one brief…


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Wouldn’t it be nice if we could slap a GPS tracker on our limbic system?

Nothing fancy. Maybe just something like the Weasley’s family clock in Harry Potter — something to give our emotions a general idea of where we are: in the safety of our own home, at school or work…in mortal danger.

I know it would make my life a lot easier!

As much as anyone may study depression, certain aspects of it cannot be truly appreciated without first-hand experience. One of those things: Tears don’t give a damn where you are! …


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I heard it all the time.

“She’s so independent.”

It was probably the most common phrase used to describe me as a child.

Then again, it’s kind of hard not to be independent when you can’t depend on anyone but yourself.

Eventually, though, that independence borne of necessity turned into something else: a fear of rejection? A fear of commitment? Maybe it was just good old-fashioned stubbornness.

It all started after “the breakup.”

Yes, it’s worthy of quotes.

We were never married or anything. There were no children involved or any other significant stakes, save for a black and white…


I was not raised in a loving home.

And that’s putting things lightly.

Not that my parents didn’t love me. I’m sure they did, even if they didn’t (or couldn’t) show it. My mother, bless her heart, is a beautiful soul but overcome by pain and sadness. Her fear of being alone always trumped all, and so, in turn, her boyfriends were always priority number one.

My perpetually delinquent brother was priority number two — if only entirely out of necessity.

I’m sure I was in her top five…somewhere behind her keeping score in the bitter, hostile relationship she had…


Fact: The only thing that will change between today and tomorrow is the calendar.

I will still be the same person with the same thoughts, feelings, beliefs, priorities and motives I have today.

I will still love my bed.

I will still hate to exercise.

I will still be sensitive and stubborn and impatient, and love the people I love… and, well, not love the people I don’t.

No magical fairy is going to come while I sleep and sprinkle me with the dust of unflappable mental strength and tolerance.

So why in God’s name do I insist on “starting…


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There are days I worry I’ll never have one again.

Especially, lately. Things have been rough, and the good days seem fewer and further between. But I’ve learned that there is one inevitability in life I can count on: the good days will always come back around.

And when they do, I smile.

It’s one of the little gifts of depression: to be able to appreciate waking up with a smile and feel gratitude for walking down the street and feeling the wind on your face.

If for no other reason than you are far too familiar with the bad…


Dear Jenny Penny,

That’s what they call you.

I know you don’t like it. You’ll waste a lot of time and effort trying to get people to call you “Jenn.” But just give it a chance. Little do you know that in 30 years you’ll be known as “Jenny” to all the most important people in your life.

Life is funny that way, you’ll see.

I know things are hard for you right now. I know you feel alone and sad. …


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What is motivation, anyway?

Passion? Inspiration? Discipline?

It’s just an emotion, really — a feeling of enthusiasm fueled by the energy to act. Not much more.

Obscure and immeasurable.

Yet, true to human form, we give an awful lot of credence to this thing that can’t be quantified. And, oh, how we depend on it. How we empower it! How we let it determine our day… our life!

I can’t count how many days I’ve neglected to write because I just “didn’t feel like it.” How can you force creativity? I would argue. …


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I’m having a rough week.

No. That’s not true. It’s a miserable week. And today has been the worst of it.

I’ve felt worse, of course. Much worse. But I’ve also felt much better.

The most difficult part is, I don’t fully understand why.

No. That’s also not true.

I skipped a few days of my meds, my diet hasn’t been great, and I definitely have some hormonal issues going on. But it’s not like any of this is new! So why such a huge change in my mood? I think that’s what’s bothering me the most — the disparity…

Jennifer Kealahan

Always believing... usually strong... Sharing a little piece of myself with the world and trying to make waves! https://www.facebook.com/jennifer.kealahan

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