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Depression Is My New Roommate

Writing is harder these days. But writing about my experience is much easier than talking about it. I can't tell you when it happened, but it all started a few years ago when I began to keep details of my personal life ... personal. All the good things, and all the unbelievably crappy things, and the dull, boring everyday things. I've kept it all to myself. Even close friends are in the dark about what has been happening in my life over the last year, and some family members probably know even less.

I guess maybe part of it comes from not wanting people to worry about me. Since I'm so far away from them, then the old adage that "ignorance is bliss" kind of applies. As does "no news is good news." Why upset the status quo? I can say that everything is fine and make idle chit chat and no one would be any wiser. I'm also not the best at asking for help. That's been a lifelong thing, I think. I've always held the stubborn belief that I can do it…

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