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I have developed a very intimate relationship with running, and I don’t plan on parting with it anytime soon.

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We suppress that inner child, go on the subway, listen to the same old playlist, pretend to be happy in front of friends and co-workers, and think “Why am I like this?”

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The desire to do anything has gone. Only the numbness remains; a blank, empty sheet of paper, a black hole, an abyss of despair.

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“This sadness is not a welcome part of my life and it does not belong here next to me.”

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I could just…log out of Twitter. Turn off the notifications. Mute the words “coronavirus” across my social media platforms. Tune out the news that my parents are watching on the TV in the other room. But I can’t.

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Depression will lie to you over and over again. It will make you believe no one sees you, no one hears you, and no one will miss you when you are gone.

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It won’t always be this way.

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Chances are, your partner already knows someone who struggles with depression. Maybe they even struggle with it themselves.

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It does get easier. It’s like the universe is granting you mercy for making you suffer. However, it won’t allow you to forget.

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Once I find love, my mind picks it apart.