I wake up every morning and immediately start keeping score. Did I pray enough yesterday? Was I kind enough, patient enough, holy enough? Did I earn my place in God’s love today?

Some days, being a product manager feels less like managing features and more like building houses inside my head. Every thought needs a doorway. Every decision, a hallway that leads somewhere. You can't just put a sink in the attic and call it design. It has to flow. It has to make sense.

There’s a particular kind of silence that comes with depression: the kind that doesn’t announce itself, doesn’t bleed dramatically, doesn’t fit neatly into metaphors. It’s the kind of heaviness that folds into the smallest tasks: brushing your teeth, replying to a message, standing in the shower while the water runs but you haven’t moved. I think what hurts most isn’t always the darkness. It’s the fact that the world keeps moving as if nothing’s wrong.