This is not a happy post. If you're seeking unicorns and butterflies, look elsewhere. My depression is silent. Most are unaware of its existence because I'm moderately functional on the surface, and I am foolishly proud of myself in that regard. If I can convince others that I'm ok, then I'll be ok. Right? You have it together. You know yourself so well. You're so confident! You know what you want. I've had the above and similar phrases spoken to me over the last decade, but let me tell you something... They're a load of shit. Today, I came home to a bedroom that was in shambles. Empty pizza boxes, piles of clean and dirty laundry strewn about (don't ask me which were clean and which weren't; I've forgotten at this point), unwashed dishes, etc (the list ashamedly goes on), and it hit me all of the sudden that I haven't been taking care of myself or my surroundings. It's a frustrating realization because ea