There is a popular narrative of depression; of constantly holding up a mask or pretending to be happy during chronic internal suffering. While this is not a disingenous experience of depression, it also isn't mine. I feel more that my depression and my joy are constantly in tandem with one another. When I struggle with dark thoughts and stagnation, it has never meant I was faking the smile when I held my loved one that morning. And when I laugh so hard my ribs hurt, it does not discount how deeply I am struggling and need help. My depression holds herself rigidly, she has to be perfect and she cannot be. My joy flies and darts unnexpectly, but she is relaxed and at peace with herself. Despite this, both my depression and my joy are intelligent creatures, and they coexist together Simultaneously.