It was more than a force of will, she'd had to accept that. She recognized her own depression, realized that she had fallen into this well of hopelessness and dark thoughts and more than just effort was going to be required to come out of it. So she'd asked for help, an action she was not familiar or entirely comfortable with. But she had gone to Theo and requested what basically amounted to an anti-depressant potion. Something to help lighten her mind and lift her from that deep darkness. For the last two weeks, she'd taken this new potion every night before bed and had started waking up feeling... well, lighter. Digging into her emotions had become easier, wearing those emotions on her sleeve or allowing them to show on her face hadn't been as much of a chore. She treated her feelings like a muscle: they needed to be worked out, strengthened. And so she thought of things that made her happy, that made her laugh. She thought of things that made her angry (a rather long list, she had come to realize) and, less frequently, she thought of things that made her sad. Though she stayed away from the memories that made her want to weep and rage and scream, she found that this helped her the most, thinking of the sad things. It took more effort, made coming back to a baseline harder, forcing her to get stronger.