I know many folks take the month of November to share on social media what they are grateful for. I have a friend who did this for over a year. I’m not gonna kid myself and think I can last that long, but since 2025 is the biggest dump fire of a year I’ve ever experienced, I figured I’d give it a try.

And you know what? It is SO much harder than I thought it would be. I want to be genuine in my gratitude, and that, my friends, is proving difficult. There are days that I’m grateful to get outside in the sunshine, because it has been absolutely fucking frigid in Maine this winter. If the temperatures stay above 20 for much of the day, it feels like spring. (I wish I was joking.) So those days I truly am happy about a walk outside.

Other days, I’m thankful to have a roof over my head and heat that mostly works. I work in a library that welcomes folks that are homeless, and seeing what these fellow humans have to do to stay alive is astounding. I don’t care if you think they are all substance users (they’re not) or mentally ill (they’re not), but even if they were they still deserve a place to sleep and eat and be safe. Period. No discussion.

And, of course, I’m nearly always grateful to have my family and friends. I have a kick-ass support system and I know that when I’m floundering, someone is there to at least throw me a rope to hold onto. Not to hang myself with. (I know some of you have toxic people in your lives that would throw you that rope for the latter. Let’s cut those assholes out of our lives, shall we?)

Today, Day 42 of my gratitude posts, I’m coming up a bit empty.

My kid had appointments at the cardiologist today, so I didn’t go to work. When we left the house this morning, my husband was struggling to stay awake. Today is food bank day, so it’s a day he leaves the house for sure. Typically it lifts him up a bit. But not today. Not at all.

I’m feeling so helpless when it comes to his care because he is still able to care for himself but doesn’t. I understand this is depression but I also understand that I do not deal with it very well. I reached out to a friend who has dealt with depression for their entire life, hoping for some insight, some nugget that would help me help my husband. I had already done a few things they suggested. I told my husband I was worried, that I loved him, that I knew he was depressed but he needed to get help, that his life affected mine and the boy’s, too.

Is there something else I should do?

Maybe? But when does it end? When does a person take responsibility for themselves? When does a partner step back and let come what may?

Sometimes I wish my feelings were consistent.

Today I’m stepping back because I’m at my breaking point on so many fronts that my brain is just filled with chaos. (I imagine it looks like a can of silly string exploded in there.) Tomorrow, though? I might be ready to throw my old man over my shoulder and drop him off at his last therapist’s office, or just sit with him as he calls his doctor to get a new antidepressant medication.

But I’m not there today. Not even close.

So…what am I grateful for today?

I think it’s my own free will.

Today, for my sanity, I am choosing me.