He said, “You know, Shannon, depression is a spirit. It’s a seductive spirit. Because, while it’s tearing you apart, it’s also feeding you chemicals that feel good. Good enough to make you keep it around. Good enough to not cast it out… You can be free.”

I hate lies now. Like…A LOT. The worst lies, I find, are the ones that I don’t even know I’m telling. Those are the ones that have their root in the deep, dark and murky recesses of my insecurities, past rejections, and the total conviction that if I can’t see them, no one else can either. Until I unceremoniously find out they can.

Some time ago, I had a friend who shared a house with me on alternative days/weeks when I was in town and vice versa. On one of my trips in town that coincided with one of her trips out of town, I arrived to the house to find it a mess and all the food I’d left 10 days earlier either eaten, given away or tossed out. I was a little low on cash, tired from traveling, and possessed little to no desire to go grocery shopping as soon as I got back. When I asked about the missing food and general ‘ugh’ of the house, I got a plate of evasive answers paired with a juicy slice of remorselessness washed down with a tall glass of ‘get over it…I already have’.

Last year, I made a new friend. I love that because, as I’ve traveled this world more, I have come to value and have a greater appreciation for what that word really means. I don’t take it lightly. One day, as I was talking with God about why this person was in my life, I heard one thing: “…to teach him bravery”.