My Depression Lifting is No Big Deal

It is not a big deal that my depression is lifting. It is little.

It is little, like taking the stairs instead of the escalator.

It is little, like taking the time to fix the stray hairs that have fallen out of my ponytail.

It is little, like filling the cracks in the walls with spackle.

It is little, like IRONING.

It is little, like saying stupid things, just as an excuse to giggle.

It is little, like shaving my legs, even though no-one will see them but me.

It is little, like passing the krispy kreme donuts at the hotel, and reaching for the whole wheat bread.

It is little, like putting on makeup.

It is little, like washing the dishes before they become a huge pile.

It is little, like wanting to paint the town, dressed to impress.

It is little, like going to the grocery store, even if I haven't taken a shower.

It is little, like answering the phone when it rings.

It is little, like nail polish.

It is little, like running an errand without having to drag myself.

It is little, like flirting.

It is little, like being assertive when someone is inappropriate.

It is little, like dusting.

It is little, like telling the truth, not just trying to please others.

It is little, a little thing like loving my life, but knowing I can have better.

My depression lifting is no big deal, it is little.