Things have been going well for me. And yet I still feel the same, familiar emptiness carried over into a supposedly new life. A year or so ago, the depression I’d experienced was dark and utterly vivid, I could never have imagined relating to it so distantly now. I feel that I barely went through that version of my life—I don’t recognize her, the old self. I’m surprised I can’t lie to myself, recognizing (still) that I’m not this person now. I had considered myself very good at that.