Choices. I don’t have a choice in having clinical depression or my anxiety. I don’t have a choice in how and what the day brings. I didn’t have a choice in the current events that have happened in my life and in the lives of my loved ones. And as my sister says, I have tools to make life easier, bearable, and happier. God. Church. The Bible, prayer and worship. Loved ones. My doctors. My friends. Medication. They’re all tools, you see. But what good are these tools, if I don’t implement them in my daily life. It’s a choice. I CHOOSE to use these tools. I CHOOSE to be a victor and not the victim. I CHOOSE to fight everyday for my happiness, despite my illness. I cannot choose how I feel, but I can CHOOSE to make the best of it. I CHOOSE to be a light unto this dark world and I CHOOSE to speak up for those who are afraid to talk about it because of the stigma society has set on mental illnesses. I CHOOSE to surrender myself to God and let him take control. I CHOOSE to not let my illness, my weight, what others say, what even my own crazy, unrealistic thoughts sometime conjure up, define who I am. I CHOOSE to define myself by what God says I am. And he says that I am loved unconditionally, that I was made perfect in his image, that he has a plans that will prosper me, and not harm me, plans that give me hope and a future. {Jeremiah 29:11} That is who I CHOOSE to be.













