Hope’s Shadow

Have you ever come across a quote that just stuck with you?

Maybe it was relatable, a helpful reminder, or a source of inspiration or validation. Whatever the reason, it left an impact, making you pause and reflect—no small feat in a world full of distractions.

“Hope is a waking dream.” — Aristotle

This quote struck a chord with me the moment I saw it. Its profound simplicity inspired me to reflect on my own journey. As writing is one of my favorite therapeutic outlets, I poured my thoughts into a journal entry about my experience with severe depression and the relentless battles my mind wages against itself.

The process was eye-opening and refreshing. I hope that someone who comes across this, someone who may share similar struggles, finds it as thought-provoking and validating as I did. Nobody, myself included, deserves to feel the heavy weight of depression. It can be debilitating, draining, and isolating, but it is not insurmountable.

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As someone living with Major Depressive Disorder (MDD), Aristotle’s words resonate deeply.

Best vs. Worst Self

The best version of myself is the one most people see. She is a badass.

She’s inspirational—her story, persistence, and strength touch hearts in ways she doesn’t fully realize. Her love for others runs so deep that she motivates people to love themselves and those around them more.

She’s positive. Life constantly throws her curveballs, and while she’s not a fan of sports, she always gives it her best shot. She may not know how every challenge will play out, but she trusts in her resilience.

She is full of ideas. In fact, one could easily argue that she has more ideas than she has time to explore. She could easily argue that. But that best version of herself can accomplish quite a lot. Having too many ideas isn’t a terrible problem to have.

I love that version of myself. She’s ready to conquer the world, a force to be reckoned with.

Then there’s the worst version of myself. This version is hard to face, and harder to display. She feels like a stranger sometimes—unwelcome, yet unshakable.

She’s riddled with sadness and hopelessness, her body paralyzed by misery. This cycle of despair feels like an invisible addiction; harder to address because others can’t see it.

She second-guesses everything, convinced failure is inevitable. Her ideas stay locked away, untouched, as if they never existed. That thought cuts deeper than most, because her greatest fear is wasting her potential and never truly living.

“The possibilities are endless, yet I don’t want any of them.” — Pierre XO

She spends so much time in her head that she leaves hardly any time left to spend in the world, leading to a detrimental cycle of self destruction. Her reality can oftentimes look much more daunting from her personal perspective, so she retreats into a world more grim than the one she actually exists in.

I hate this version of myself. She feels conquered, unable to rise above the weight of the world.

Real vs. Fake (and the Guilt Trip)

People often call me inspiring and positive. While I’m grateful, it creates a pressure to always embody that role. When my mindset shifts to a darker place, I feel guilty, even toxic, as if I’m burdening others.

I obsess over staying the “inspirational girl,” forgetting that inspiration often comes from rising after a fall. Each time I pull myself out of a destructive pattern, I emerge stronger, more complete. That’s not failure—it’s growth disguised by hardship.

I also fear being seen as fake. But I’ve come to understand that both sides of me—the best and the worst—are real. They don’t coexist easily, but they don’t invalidate each other.

I truly believe in everything I tell others about self-love, positivity, and resilience. Yet my own mind is often my greatest adversary. It waits for moments of vulnerability to strike, leading me to forget that those same principles I preach apply to me, too.

I don’t forget that these concepts exist, but rather, that they also apply to ME. I can too easily forget to treat myself with the same love and compassion I give others. I also so easily forget that I have the same strength and capacity to get through something that I insure others that they possess when they are faced with challenges.

“Hope is a waking dream.”

So why does this quote resonate with me?

At my lowest, when every option feels exhausted and my strength depleted, hope is the one thing I can cling to. Hope is a lifeline, a reminder that while despair may take many things, only I can allow it to strip away all traces of hope.

I know I have a purpose, just like everyone else. The best version of me embraces that purpose, eagerly anticipating what lies ahead.

When I don’t let depression define me, when I balance despair with hope, I become unstoppable. That’s when the version of me that I’m meant to be awakens—and conquers.

Never lose hope. If you do, you lose your purpose, your passions, and your dreams. You lose your life before you’ve had the chance to truly live it.

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**If you struggle with these types of feelings, do not be afraid to speak up and seek help. There are numerous different avenues of help available now that are convenient, easy to use, anonymous, and diverse. You are worth it.

Here are just a few resources you can check out:

www.nami.org (National Alliance on Mental Illness)

www.afsp.org (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention)