There is no one like you. There never has been. There never will be. And on your good days, you know this. You are happy, on top of the world. You revel in your you-ness.
But on bad days, the last thing on your mind is how special you are. You may feel like no one loves you, no one even cares about you. Your sadness and pain engulf you, every speck of misery sticks to them, and the darkness grows heavier and heavier.
Eventually the day may come when you think the world would be better off without you. It wouldn’t though. I guarantee that. How?
Because there is no one like you. There never has been. There never will be.
I have been there in that dark pit. It was in the abyss of despair that I discovered a technique for securing me to life, to keep from slipping into darkness—I look at my hands. That may not sound like much but let me tell you about my hands.
My grandfather called them “piano hands.” They are beautiful with slender fingers. I have strong nails which I like to buff and polish. But the beauty of my hands is more than skin deep. They do play piano. They also tend gardens and paint.
Most importantly, they write. Words that I cannot speak flow out of my fingers, transformed into ink on paper. And in that darkest of times, my hands were the only thing that kept me sane.
Multiple times a day I would look at my hands:
No one understands me. No one has hands like these.
I don’t know what to do. These are the only hands like this in the history of the world.
I don’t know if I can keep going. These hands create art that no one else can create.
Yes, other hands are beautiful and other hands are talented, but not in the exact way that mine are. My hands are unique.
There is something unique about you as well.
Is it your smile? Your hair? The way your cheekbones accent your face? Perhaps your legs are muscular and powerful or your shoulders have a lovely line from neck to arm. Now go beyond the surface and tie that physical element to something deeper.
Do your cupid-bow lips know just the right words to say to comfort a friend? Do the cheekbones from your grandmother remind you of her unconditional love? Those strong legs allow you to run with your dog. Your lovely shoulders are perfect for your children to rest their heads on at the end of the day.
It can be hard to look in a mirror during dark times, so it may be easier to pick a non-facial body part. But it must be part of your body so it can ground you in the here and now.
You can touch that body part and feel the realness of it. It gives you a solid place on which to attach that slim but strong cord that keeps you from falling into despair.
This is not a magic wand technique intended to pull you out of depression. It is a life preserver, a tool to use as needed. I recommend doing it during good days too, so this becomes a regular practice.
Thank your awesome body part for its strength, take care of it, focus on its unique qualities.
There is no one like you—I promise.
