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Why Am I so Sad?

Why Am I so Sad?                                                9 Possible Causes You Shouldn’t Ignore Expressing emotions is difficult as it’s not always encouraged in society. People rely on comfort zones and a secure mask to get them through the day. You may feel emotions stirring and wonder, “Why am I so sad? ” and not know where to begin in how to answer that. In a way, being sensitive can be looked down upon. We ignore warning signs of sadness, depression and other forms of suffering because having feelings is something we cannot be open about in society. Stigma stifles us from speaking up. It shouldn’t be something we are afraid of. With the release or catharsis of emotion, we find resilience and who we want to be. Sadness is one emotion of many. But it’s often the one most ignored. We don’t want to appear weak to others, or even to ourselves. Ignoring sadness leads to repression. It may also lead to depression. There is a difference between sadness and de
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Give Way to Ambulance

Whenever an ambulance’s red light is flashing.. Whenever its siren is on… It means a life is at stake… You must give way to the ambulance… So that it can quickly get to the scene to treat the sick or injured.. Save Lives. Give way to ambulances…  With the increasing traffic on the roads, ambulances have a tough task in taking the patients to hospitals on time. The motorists must move left making way for the ambulance on hearing the siren. A recent survey conducted revealed that nearly 18,000 patients who are transported in ambulances every year could be saved from medical complications if the vehicles could reach hospitals faster. More and more motorists in the busy streets of Chennai, Mumbai and other major cities of India are refusing to yield to emergency vehicles like ambulances and fire trucks. This assessment is based on first hand experience of our volunteers along with a sharp rise in complaints from paramedics and firefighters. Instead of cleari
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Lost Hearts

Lost Heart It was, as far as I can ascertain, in September of the year 1811 that a post-chaise drew up before the door of Aswarby Hall, in the heart of Lincolnshire. The little boy who was the only passenger in the chaise, and who jumped out as soon as it had stopped, looked about him with the keenest curiosity during the short interval that elapsed between the ringing of the bell and the opening of the hall door. He saw a tall, square, red-brick house, built in the reign of Anne; a stone-pillared porch had been added in the purer classical style of 1790; the windows of the house were many, tall and narrow, with small panes and thick white woodwork. A pediment, pierced with a round window, crowned the front. There were wings to right and left, connected by curious glazed galleries, supported by colonnades, with the central block. These wings plainly contained the stables and offices of the house. Each was surmounted by an ornamental cupola with a gilded vane. An eve
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Little Girl

Little Girl Some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree. Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, “This is for you, Daddy.” The man became embarrassed by his overreaction earlier, but his rage continue when he saw that the box was empty. He yelled at her; “Don’t you know, when you give someone a present, there is supposed to be something inside?” The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and cried; “Oh, Daddy, it’s not empty at all. I blew kisses into the box. They’re all for you, Daddy.” The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness. Only a short time later, an accident t
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