It would be difficult for me to ascribe a single factor that led to my depression. It was a layering that began with the constant hum of racism, of whiteness. There was no name-calling, no overt anti-Blackness, simply the fact of existing in white spaces where the real me was invisible. The persistent feeling of not belonging, of feeling deficient, and not being seen was always inside me, just below the surface. Ashton, who didn’t see me, either, brought it all to the surface, pushing me over the edge.
