Depression swallows me whole sometimes.

The dark abyss presses in—heavy, unrelenting, tethered to my body.

It starts in my cheekbones and works it’s way to my toes.

Tasks become impossible to conceptualize; how does laying down transform into a chore or changing from one pair of sweatpants to another?

My medication and coping tools continue to work by the grace of God and therapy. And yet, the abyss looms.

“When will you leave? How long will you linger once you’re gone?”

There’s no answer. There’s only uncertainty. There’s only the next breath and the one thereafter.

As air fills my lungs I’m both relieved and apathetic.

…and then the light breaks through…

Suddenly, even as the darkness continues to envelop me, a loved one lends a hand, a word, a touch—and ever so slightly there’s a pang of hope.

Tears form, smiles crack. It will all be okay as long as we have each other to hold onto. As long as we let the light break through, the darkness is no match. The light of community will always break the overwhelming bonds of isolation.

Some days, this is my best attempt at smiling. And that’s okay.

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