Columns

It started with laughter — the kind that bubbles up fast, spills over, and refuses to be contained. The kind that makes your stomach ache and your eyes water. The kind you wish you could bottle and save for harder days. I was on my grandparents’ couch, wrapped in that…

It was January 2020, and I thought to myself, I can’t dance. My feet felt like they were moving through glue, and I couldn’t seem to pick them up fast enough. This wasn’t the first time I had this realization, but I was still a little disappointed that I couldn’t…

There’s a quiet moment I’ve come to depend on: the second my body gives in and I slip into sleep. It’s not dramatic. It’s not planned. It’s just necessary. That moment is when I recharge. I’m Rachel Nesmith, though many people know me as Sleepy American. I live with…

“Does my Kermit the Frog shirt scream depression?” “Is my hair braided in an anxious way?” “Is my personality too meek?” My thoughts circled dreadfully before a doctor’s appointment. After years of dead-end appointments, I felt like I was the problem. As part of a six-week outpatient program in March…