I think this is what we all want to hear: that we are not alone in hitting the bottom, and that it is possible to come out of that place courageous, beautiful, and strong.

Maybe it’s not about having a beautiful day, but about finding beautiful moments. Maybe a whole day is just too much to ask. I could choose to believe that in every day, in all things, no matter how dark and ugly, there are shards of beauty if I look for them.

I realized that I was okay with myself. I was quirky and withdrawn and loud, but I liked that. I smiled at strangers without thinking they were going to attack me and drag me into their cars. I went to doctors’ offices and touched magazines that had been touched by sick people.

I believe God lets us stumble along, slowly finding our way, and giving us chances to pick each other up.

I believe in beauty. I believe in goodness. I believe in the power of turning: the other cheek, time, curve of the earth.

Okay, I’ll just jump right out and say it. I have anxiety issues.