I never realized that high-functioning depression was actually a “thing.” I’ve just always figured that all people, like me, just have their “down days” where they pull up their “big girl panties,” suck it up, and do what needs to be done on any given day.

I believe that, right now, I could count on one hand the number of “true” friends I have.

I have lost friends for some pretty ridiculous reasons. The worst was when I asked the gentleman I was dating to move in, and a “friend” who had been listening to my pain and frustration during my divorce told me never to call again. In fact, she had her husband tell me; she couldn’t tell me herself.

I’ve laid in bed at night (since third grade) and wondered what it would be like to have friends.

I could (and have) gone for days without anyone ever calling to see how I’m doing or if I’m ok.

I’ve even wondered how long it would take for anyone to realize I was missing if something ever happened to me.

Thank you for writing an article that spoke loudly to me about the rabbit hole I disappear into that few people ever see. Keep writing boldly.