The Stare

If it’s one thing I avoid when I’m depressed, it’s mirrors, or my reflection.

I clean my teeth and stare at the sink, because it’s easier than looking up. Sometimes, I look up, just to check that I’m there.

Sometimes I am.

Some people are able to stare into the mirror anyway, looking through themselves. They’ve perfected the art of the blank stare, of looking right at yourself and not seeing, or not looking.

I’m not there yet.

But every time I have a bad day or a bad week or a bad month and start to look at the sink when I clean my teeth, I wonder, is this it? Am I back here again?

How much time do I need before I know?

How much longer?

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