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to those who are tired

Real talk: I was in Mexico this weekend, studiously avoiding my phone, but all I could think about was Anthony.
Something about depression, at least as I’ve experienced it, is that it behaves a lot like a weed in a garden. It starts so small that, to the untrained eye, you should be able to just cut it off before it grows. But if you don’t know how to pull it up by the root, it only grows back thicker and tougher than before. Even if you can get it at the root, it takes a lot of effort to do that by yourself, especially since new weeds seem to sprout as soon as you’ve pulled the old ones out. Before you know it, your once-vibrant garden is an overgrown tangle of vines and thorns, and you’re stuck there in the middle with your gloves and your spade, wondering what the heck happened, and feeling embarrassed for being a bad gardener.
You don’t need someone to come say “hey we see you in there! Dig yourself out!” What you really need is someone to just take charge and come in bushwhackin…

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