learned to sniff out its impending arrival and to watch it descend. It no longer envelops me. I can be an impartial observer, even as it renders me incapacitated at times. It always does lift, a fluttering bird that sometimes sweeps up close before banking upward and pitching away. Now I’ve gotten so good at managing it with medication and tools honed in therapy and years of practice that I can hide it, flipping a switch. I can “turn on” a happy version of myself, despite what I’m feeling. Most of the time.
