People are often shocked to find out I have clinical depression. I’m usually the loud-mouth, fun-loving girl. The first one to be there for a friend at a drop of a hat.
And the last one to say no to a good time. They don’t see it, though. They don’t get to see the hair so tangled because running a brush through my hair feels like lifting a dead weight.
No one knows now that I work full-time, I feel as though I have no more energy for anything else. They don’t see sometimes I’m too exhausted to eat.
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