I’ve always felt reluctant to write about my mental health, not because I am so tenaciously focused on the plight of others, or because I don’t like writing about myself—I definitely do—but because we live in a time of severe and pervasive stress, and I, in particular, work in media, where we witness appalling injustice on a constant basis, and where conversations often turn to, “Well, with my depression…” I never believed my experience to be unique or potentially edifying. Nothing all that terrible has happened to me. I happened to me. This has always seemed insufficient and mildly embarrassing. Also, sometimes I’m fine.