There are several poorly kept secrets in my house. 1. Molly didn't get her brown eyes from me. 2. Certain people prefer small weddings. 3. The Noodle incident. 4. The existence of my serious battle with depression.
To discuss my depression is to take a chance I rarely took on Xanga - not without my friend "protected posts." I suppose it's comparable to a decision to come out of the closet. This time...I'll say whatever I need to say and take my chances. Besides, no one listens to me anyway.
And, yeah. I'm admitting that my battles with depression aren't limited to mere attitude. It's more serious than that. The casualty list of depression is the Grim Reaper's teletype...having stolen better and/or more famous than me. And that scares me.
Andrew Koenig. Don Harman. Junior Seau. Matthew Warren. Jonathan Hamilton.
I'm in pain. And most days, I'll be damned if I let anyone see how bad I hurt.
Why should the world be over-wise // In counting all our tears and sighs?
Nay, let them only see us, while // We wear the mask.