From the Editor
Once—and I have never shared this before—I stepped into the street on my walk home from the library. I knew that the bus hurtling through the night would not have time to stop before colliding with my darkly dressed frame, fracturing my bones and scattering my belongings. I imagined my head hitting the asphalt and my brain banging around inside of my skull, bruising irreparably with each impact. I imagined the bus driver’s horror as he turned off the ignition with shaking hands and leapt out of the vehicle to locate my body. It would be a catastrophe that the trauma surgeons could not salvage. I would die.
Rahael Gupta is many things. She’s a graduate of Stanford University, and also Columbia. She’s a medical student. She’s a self-described optimistic. She’s a marathon runner.
And she’s a person who has struggled with depression.
In this week’s Reading, we consider her essay in JAMA. It’s moving and clever and important.