Underwater

One of these days I'll read back these things I've written, and hopefully they'll seem so foreign to me that I can hardly understand what is here.

I don't like walking into work or bumping into someone on the street and being asked "How are you doing?" because often I have to lie and see "I'm alright". I can't say I'm doing poorly because then I'd have to explain myself and also I seem like a goddamn sadsack.

But it wears on me... holding this all in. There's some people that know, for sure... but a lot have no idea. I wish I could tell everyone. I wish it was something simple like walking with a cane. "Why do you walk with a cane?" "I broke my hip 7 years ago when I was hit by a car". Simple. It needn't ever go further than that. But how to I explain depression to people who don't understand what it is?




Of all people, Tanya just questioned my mood. If even Tanya cannot understand this and is going to judge me.....call me lazy.... call me moody.... call me whiny... how can I hope to get anyone else to understand it?