How do I know if my grief has turned into depression and I need help?

Mirabai knew something about the weight that doesn't lift. Grief is sharp, directional—it moves through you in waves, and between the waves, you can still feel like yourself. Depression is different. It's a fog that doesn't clear. You stop wanting things. Not because you're sad about them, but because wanting itself feels impossible. Watch for this: Are you grieving *something*, or have you stopped being able to grieve anything at all? Do you sleep too much or not at all for weeks? Has the world gone gray, not just sad? Are you isolating not because you need space, but because connection feels pointless? Mirabai's devotion kept her alive even in anguish—she had a relationship with her longing, even when it broke her. Depression is the absence of that relationship. It's numbness pretending to be peace. If you've been in this fog for more than two weeks, if you're thinking about harming yourself, if nothing—not a person you love, not a thing you once loved—can reach you: that's when you reach out. Not because grief is wrong. But because you deserve support carrying it. Talk to someone. A therapist, a doctor, a trusted person. The examined heart sometimes needs a witness.