A friend told me the other day to stop overthinking. “Bah ha ha ha!” That’s like telling the pope not to get on his knees, my daughter to stop craving sweets, or a teenage boy not to think about sex. I’ve always wanted to be one of those people who didn’t need a second longer...

A good friend of mine describes her depression as an elevator that takes her down to an unfurnished basement with toxic mold, the stench of cat urine, and no windows. When she is there, she has difficulty believing that there are any floors above her. What she sees and smells, she surmises, is the sum...