That I'd rather be living a "normal" life with the husband and the white picket fence and the 2.2 children and the Mom-Mobile and the job that I loved. I would rather have friends who can count on me. That I'd like to know that what I'm saying at any given time makes sense. That I'd like to be able to get this abscessed tooth taken care of and to afford dentures b/c I don't have back teeth. I'd like to be able to trust people and not question everything they say, especially when they compliment me. That I'm not fat by choice or laziness. That they should try taking my meds and see what happens. That just b/c they've had a situational depression and got over it, doesn't mean that they have a clue as to what true depression is. That it feels like being in hell when the voices berate me. That it's like being in an abusive relationship with my brain.

Being on disability is not easy. I'm grateful for it. But it's not some get-rich-quick scheme. That I tried working even after Hopkins told me I could never work again. I didn't ask to be this way.

That I don't say these things b/c I want you to feel sorry for me; I say them b/c I want you to understand how much this illness has taken from me.