My parents met right after college when they both moved to the middle-of-nowhere Vermont to teach at a boarding high school.

One evening a few years ago at my old apartment in Boston, I broke one of our drinking glasses.

A few months ago, I moved 400 miles from Boston to southern Maryland to start my PhD in Clinical Psychology at the University of Maryland.

A year and a few months ago, I came to the sudden, obvious, and highly overdue realization that I was depressed.

Last spring and summer, I went through quite a hard time.

Last summer, having recently gone through a breakup and with no real-life romantic prospects to speak of, I turned to dating apps.

Years ago, I wrote letters back and forth with someone who would draw their feelings when they had trouble expressing themself in words.

A few months ago, I was quite mean to my brother Max.

A number of months ago, my first first-author academic paper was published.

A few months ago, I accidentally bought sugar-free, fat-free pudding.