My most read post on this blog, by far, is a piece of prose talking about depression. Months after I wrote it, it still pops up some days as the most read thing here. And my poems about depression tend to have higher readership and more comments than my other topics. Clearly there are a lot of other people who wrestle with it.

Some people share their own stories. Some just say thank you. Others add things they have learned in their own battles. But the most amazing thing, the thing that boggles my mind, is how many people, friends, and perfect strangers, write me private notes asking if I am OK.

I am OK.

Many of the things I write about depression, no matter how raw they seem, are memory poems. There was indeed a time that I was not OK. Not OK at all. There were years…