Spent: Depression and Me

Summer is spent. Mornings are chill. The days feel shorter. I’ve started running in the afternoon instead of the morning to soak up the afternoon sun. It’s late in the day as I write, and the sun is gone. A wall of clouds hovers high above. My kitchen window offers a view of the trees with more yellow leaves than green. In fact the branches of the tree have shed most of their leaves. The tree looks sickly. Fall is in the air.
In a way I, too, feel like I’m spent. It’s been a sort of sluggish...