Downhill

So, I'm watching the Olympics. Women's skiing. I don't know the specifics. But I've decided that recovering from depression is like an Olympic sport.

You have these moments. I saw these four women ski for the gold tonight--one of them zoomed ahead immediately and took home gold. Two of them were neck-and-neck the whole time. The fourth one wobbled right out of the gate and struggled the entire race just to cross the finish line.

I don't think I have to explain who I feel like right now. I spent a few moments inside the fourth woman's head (whether I really was or not, who knows...but I was, in my mind, an Olympic skiier tonight), and I kept thinking, just stop. What's the point? Just stop. There's no hope of catching up. Why am I even doing this? Why am I even trying? I'd be better off to just stop, hide for a little while, and hope that I can get it right when I come back out again.

Here's where I learned a lesson. That woman kept going. It looked like every single thing that could go wrong did--that stumble at the beginning wasn't the only mistake. Bad things kept happening, and kept happening. She must have felt like an idiot, really, but she just. kept. going. I couldn't believe it. I was actually quite surprised at how much she closed in on them at the end. She still wasn't anywhere near a medal, but she closed in.

I don't know what was going on in her mind during that race, but just when I started identifying with her and feeling really bad for her, I thought to myself--dude, she's still an Olympian. Fourth place, yes. But fourth in the world. Would I say she's weak? Would I say she's clumsy and better off not racing? NO! Those conclusions are insane. Olympians are heroes, whether it's first or fourth place, medals or no medals. We still cheer them on; we cry when they fall; we jump off our chairs screaming when they're the ones who have flawless runs down the hill and clinch the gold. We do it because they're strong, and whether they fall or break records, we love them.

But Olympic heroes, even without support, are doing what they're meant to do, and they fight for that finish line. That's just the sport, and that's life.

I don't like falling. I don't like stumbling and stopping the whole way down the hill, but I'm going to be satisfied today because I'm a hero to two tiny little people, and I will go all the way, even if I have to crawl.

Stopping is not an option.