To say that I spiraled would probably be an understatement. I tend to base a lot of my identity on how good of a friend I can be to people, and feeling as if I had become toxic to someone I loved triggered my depression in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. It felt like I had said or done something wrong, but I couldn’t figure out what it was, or even try to make up for it or apologize for it. I spent a long time agonizing over what boundaries I could have crossed, what I did or didn’t do or say, and an even longer time thinking of myself in terms of what I lacked or ways in which I was deficient. I felt more lost than when I first arrived in NYC, totally alone.