I Believe in Happy Endings, and Love | A Confession and a Poem

What to Do About Depression

“‘What to do about depression?’ ‘What to do about anxiety?’ I’m tired of asking the questions – the hopelessness of it all. Can someone convince me happy endings really do happen?”

It’s hard, I know. Being mired in the fallout of depression, anxiety, bipolarity, addiction, stress, grief – and so much more – can seem like an endless and very dark nightmare. It isn’t at all difficult to understand how believing in happy endings can become all but impossible.

So what are we to do when we’re chin-deep in the swamp? Well, I guess hope’s supposed to come into play. But those in emotional/mental despair will attest to the scarcity of that particular commodity.

Then? I’m thinking all that’s left is to somehow grasp-on to a happy ending – hope – of another until we can come by a ray or two of our own sunshine. I deeply believe in that concept. Just as much as I believe in happy endings, hope, and love.

Speaking of which, how ’bout I share a story? By the way, it’s kind of nice to be writing from the heart about feelings; as opposed to the latest medicinal or psychotherapeutic remedy for the mood and anxiety disorders.

I posted an article here on Chipur a little over two years ago entitled “She Grew Up Too Fast (but she had to).” It’s about my best-friend Chuck’s reaction to learning his teenage daughter was pregnant – and his struggles with guilt, in kind. Cool bit of reading – give it a go. Actually, there was a happy ending to the article; however, I’m coming to you now with a happy ending update. How’s that?

Now, then – I mentioned confession in the title. Hmmm. Well, fact is, Chuck is me. For the record, I chose the name in honor and memory of a very special cat that was a part of my life many moons ago.

Okay, okay, the happy ending update…

Two years and eight months after “Chuck” got the news of his daughter’s pregnancy, I have a two-year-old granddaughter. And she’s as sweet as they come. But there’s more. I’ve come to understand how extraordinary my daughter is, not that I didn’t already know she’s the goods. Throughout her pregnancy and the first two years of her daughter’s life, her accomplishments have been nothing short of amazing.

Think about it – my daughter was but 15 when she learned she was pregnant. Not only did she go-on to graduate high school, taking only one semester off – she nailed a 3.8 GPA her senior year. It doesn’t end there. My daughter started her freshman year in college several weeks ago – along with working part-time and caring for that sweet little girl.

I am deeply proud of my daughter, and thankful for her providing her dad – and others – with the happiest of endings.

As I often do before writing an article, I was flipping through some of my poems to see if there was a fit. Found a very special piece I wrote 15 years ago after being with my “little girl” on a “Dad’s weekend,” post-divorce. Hope (there’s that word again) you enjoy it…


To him you run
With joy
To be raised in graceful motion

Your eyes embrace
As he smiles that certain confidence and warmth
Two hearts ignite

He holds you close and strong with one mighty arm
On his shoulder
Your head softly to one side
Cupped with a massive hand

To and fro you move
Swirling in circular dance

In awe

Nothing more
Nor less


I gotta’ ask. Do you spend countless hours wondering what to do about depression – what to do about anxiety? Are you mired in the swamp of emotional/mental despair? Perhaps you’ve reached the point where believing in happy endings – hope and love – is a ridiculous proposition.

Please! Grasp-on to my story, with its happy ending. That’s exactly why I posted it – confession and all. Really, it’s for you.

Take it, k?

I’d like you to peruse more Chipur articles. If you’re in, here’s a looooong list of titles.

  • Patricia Miller September 23, 2013, 9:19 pm

    This is beautiful and worthy of sharing. I can hold on to it, just like you two held one another and still do in love and grace. Thank you for always sharing from the abundance of your heart.

    • chipur September 23, 2013, 9:51 pm

      Peace to you, Patricia. Do, indeed, hold-on to it. Sure is yours for the taking – and keeping. Always comforting to know you’re with us…

  • Leslie Ferris September 23, 2013, 11:31 pm

    Bill, I always enjoy your posts, and usually am in absolute wonder over your breadth of knowledge on depression, anxiety, and related topics. But I really have to say that this article is my absolute favorite so far. So beautifully written, and deeply open and honest. Thanks for sharing that part of yourself with us, and we are all better for it. I will definitely be sharing this one.

    • chipur September 24, 2013, 9:37 am

      Well, thank you, Leslie. Glad you enjoyed the article, and feel compelled to share. Hoping it’ll bring a measure of comfort to the recipient(s). That’s what our work is all about, right? Thanks for stopping-by and contributing…

  • Cathy | Treatment Talk September 25, 2013, 12:31 am

    Love this story, Bill! How wonderful that your daughter and her dad embraced the situation and that she has gone on to make her way in the world. No matter what situation you are in, there is always hope. Love the poem! Thanks for sharing your story with us.

    • chipur September 25, 2013, 6:23 pm

      Hey, you’re welcome, Cathy. No doubt, there’s always hope – and I’ve been in enough scrapes to attest to that truth. You’re sweet to visit as frequently as you do and participate…

  • Lisa Frederiksen September 25, 2013, 12:09 pm

    Bill – this is so beautiful (and I agree, it’s fun to write from the heart after all the science stuff)… the way your shared your experience and your poem to help those (and I’ve been there) “mired in the fallout of …. stress, grief…” to hang on, hang on to hope. Thank you, Bill – I love your writing. [And your daughter sounds AWESOME!!]

    • chipur September 25, 2013, 6:26 pm

      Aw, thank you, Lisa. And you know how much I enjoy your writing. Right? Yeah, so often it’s about hanging-on – and the spoils generally go to those who can do so the longest. Ain’t easy, but well worth it. And anything we can offer each other to hold-on to is such a huge help. Thank you for your visit and contribution…

  • Dr. Herby Bell September 29, 2013, 11:03 pm

    I am deeply moved by your touching story and magnificent poem–I just finished reading for the fifth time–as I imagined you two in…completion. You make me want to be a better Dad, Bill. Thank you, thank you.

    • chipur September 30, 2013, 11:33 am

      More than welcome, Herby. Glad you stopped by…

  • npeden January 7, 2016, 9:46 am

    wow, so glad i found this and now i know why i like you so much. what a lucky girl! being held in daddy;s arms is one of my fondest memories….

    • Chipur January 7, 2016, 7:28 pm

      Aw, thank you, Nancy. Glad you enjoyed the poem/article. A little gentleness goes a long way, doesn’t it?

      • npeden January 8, 2016, 1:37 pm

        Thanks for letting me experience it. I am crying with gratitude. Even getting ex to be kind….thanks to much work on my part and from folks like you, Bill. Deep gratitude.

      • Chipur January 8, 2016, 2:02 pm


      • npeden January 8, 2016, 2:52 pm

        I had to come back in cuz I just got the depth of what you said Bill. Just a small amount of love goes a VERY long way. hwen I was very very little from a man, a doctor, who later became violent and beat us all bloody and used to carry me in his arms. Now I know why I long for stable caring men. Geez, amazing how just a few words can open a floodgate of memories. Much gratitude.

      • Chipur January 8, 2016, 7:13 pm

        Light’s always on, door’s always open, Nancy…