There is a stigma about mental health. I don't feel safe to reveal my depression to most people. Only to certain friends. And here. I have to work. I have to function to survive, to have shelter and eat. Thank god I want to live at all. So I would call myself a functional depressive. When I fake it, I feel like I am prioritizing for the people around me. It helps in that moment, and I make it in that moment. but then I return to home, to my whole self, and the depression surges out from its hidey hole. ...

As I write this, it occurs to me that when I prioritize for others, I need to not forget myself at some point. Self care should be as important. In an ideal world, i could stop the carousel for long enough to cry or take a nap, and everyone would be a-Okay with it.