Definition: The visceral moment when chronic depression begins to lift, marked by a sudden sense of lightness and clarity. It hits like flipping on a light in a pitch-black room—colors sharpen, strangers’ smiles feel genuine, and joy flickers unexpectedly after months or years of incremental healing through therapy, routine, or purged toxicity.
This isn’t “winning” but proof your grind—exercise, job switches, or ditching trauma bonds—is working. Named for that raw, sun-on-skin relief when you realize the fog has thinned enough to breathe again.
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Example:
Walking to work, the grey sky suddenly looked intensely blue, and a stranger’s nod felt like real warmth, shocking her after years of numbness.
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He paused mid-run, breathing deep; the sunlight felt warm, not harsh, a profound sun-on-skin relief confirming the therapy and hard choices were finally paying off.