State of Depression

I used to live in the state of Depression.  I didn’t want to move from there because, after all, that was where I lived.  It was home.  It was most familiar.   Self-help did not work because I just grew more interested in depression the more I studied it and more sympathetic to myself.  If anything, self-help meant I helped myself build a bigger house in the state of Depression.

(State boundaries are fiercely fought over and subject to change.)

Even when I really wanted to move, I didn’t know where to go.  I’d always end up driving to some place worse.  Don’t ever drive to the eastern border of Depression, because you end up right in Anger and you have to pay a big toll to boot.

And don’t ever go west, because you’ll run right into the state of Self-Indulgence and probably live in the city of Debt.

And don’t go north, whatever you do, because there’s a fork in the road and you’ll either wind up in Confusion or Hypocrisy.

But whatever you do, whatever you do, don’t drive south or you’ll be sure to hit the terrible traffic in the state of Panic and you’ll never find your way back out.

What I needed was a plane ride right out of the state of Depression, right out of the country of Misery, as a matter of fact.

And that is just what I got through Jesus Christ.

“Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest.” –Jesus

Matthew 11:28, CEB

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