The black dog is an interesting metaphor for depression because the image or connotation of a dog isn't inherently negative. We want to feed, pet, and nuzzle dogs. And oddly, sometimes we do the same with our own darkness. Our depressive state can be our comfort zone. Gloominess jumps up into the bed begging us to laze the day away - whining when we get up to go out the door. And, like a puppy, we may nurture that depressive state because it can provide the illusion of safety - I can’t be hurt here in my room, I can’t be rejected while I’m home alone, I can’t fail if I’m not trying to succeed. Sadness gives us permission to mope. Although, each of us may be uniquely disadvantaged by our neurochemical make-up, the traumas we have been dealt, or the unfortunate circumstances that we have been dropped into - we can take back some control. Not control of the external, outside world and its extraneous circumstances, but control of our own internal world. We may choose to see our own hardships not as obstacles in our path but as opportunities to demonstrate our capacity to overcome. For a muscle to grow, its fibers must first be torn (lifting weights is the typical tearing mechanism and soreness is the painful byproduct of those microtears). But once torn, the muscles become scarred over, creating subtle but resounding growth. This same principle underlies facing what we fear, what makes us uncomfortable, and what is hard. In the moment, it is painful. But that pain facilitates our metamorphosis. It is in understanding this, that we can begin to see our own pain as the ladder rungs by which we may climb our way up - alchemizing our own blackness into gold.