I'm depressed. I have been since high school. I recognize it in hindsight, having slept through nearly my entire junior year.

Though, acknowledging it doesn't feel right. It feels more like an excuse I've conjured to hide apathy or laziness.

In fact, I'm not lazy. I work 8-5, or 6, or 7, or 5am in the morning. I've worked side jobs simultaneously for a decade. I'm the single mother of a young, only child. 3 jobs, 4, 5, I've been there. I am there.

I'm in hiding. Suffering from smiling depression or high functioning depression perhaps. 

My coworkers, network, acquaintances, and surface friends have no clue ... at least, I don't think they do. The part I play is well rehearsed. When my public facade begins to crack, I go into hiding.

I have a moderately successful career, an active social presence, and a kempt appearance.

I've spoken about my thoughts with two family members. The only two I've got. They have their own lives, wants, concerns,  priorities. We are close and we are not close.

I hardly sleep. 3am triggers my internal alarm. When I do find rest, I sleep for hours on end.

For 20 years, I hardly ate. Once I began, I started binging. I gained 20 lbs in a month.

I've been smoking for 20 years and it feels like the least of my problems.

I question every inch of everything, study, research, over analyze. I spend hours, full days and/or nights sometimes, searching for answers to problems that just won't quit. I do so without breaks. It's madness really.

I dwell on things for far too long. Unable to let go. Unable to move on. I obsess.

It's 2am right now. Tonight's topic is depression. Am I depressed? If I write it out, will I be able to see it? Believe it? Find an answer?

I've thought about suicide. I've made no plans, nothing concrete anyhow, but I have thought about the how. I've thought about some of the things I'll need to take care of first - for my daughter.

On that note, I'll never leave her. Never, never, never, never, never. I wouldn't dare harm her in this way. I would never jeopardize her health, happiness, and potential. I love her more than words. I will sacrifice my all.

Thoughts of suicide merely serve as a temporary escape. A moment of reprieve - damn this is fucked up.

I do not have insurance. I do not qualify for Medicaid and I cannot afford coverage in addition to living and child care costs. I do this alone.

It would be nice to speak with someone but... ah well.

Some of my other posts reveal that I am a survivor of domestic violence. I've been fighting to maintain my daughter's saftey in court for years. The system is broken and I am perpetually afraid. I still think about how we'll escape if her father ever shows up with a gun.

My mother is numb. Void of emotion or concern. Hell, she allowed me to sleep through that junior year without a word. She saw no issue leaving me (17) in LA with a 60 year old roommate who insisted on "holding my hand." Her lack of action is not intentional. It is a condition of her upbringing.

I housed and cared for my abusive, alcoholic, sick and dying father for 8 years. I did so while I worked and attended school. I remember sitting up nights listening to him cough. I sat alone with him as he died. I sang him out.

I began my young adult life on the street with a group of "lost boys" after witnessing the accidental death of a friend. We found food, warmth, and shelter in various places. We stuck together. This may have been the only time in my life I felt safe. Homeless and safe - Ha! I was surrounded by people I could trust and depend on.

I never quit ... never. I triumphed through it all. I rose, and rose, and rose. I educated myself, worked obsessively, and launched my career. I've given the sun, moon, and stars to my amazing child. I've safeguarded her thus far at the expense of my sanity.

👆 These posts are attached to another (less anonymous) account. I've mentioned suicide here and I wouldn't dare allow for a slip that would cost me my child.

So, yes, it's clear why I suffer.

I'm just tired and desperately sad. Perhaps, another devastating life trial is the answer.

Too busy, to beaten, and to fraught to dwell in sadness is the best headspace for me.

I could use some help.

- Love waves from me to you