I've had depression ever since I can remember. My first memory's of wanting to die was when I was 7 or 8, my first time self harming was also about that age.

It's somewhat gotten better over the years, the depression isn't gone, but I stopped SHing.

The numb phases have mostly gone away, but the sad phases of depression have gotten more common.

I sometimes wake up and just cry my eyes out for hours and hours, feeling overwhelmed and irritated by everything.

The fact that I'm an EMT and covid is killing us right now doesn't help.

Usually I get my bouts of sadness after work, but today I have to work the late shift and ever since I woke up I just can't stop crying.
Everything sets me off. I dropped my croissant and it made me cry for a literal hour.

At work and in my family I am known as the happy, outgoing, confident colleague. People come to me for jokes and I sometimes get laughed at for being "too positive". 
Every single day I come into work and greet everyone with a smile and a "this is going to be a great shift!"
Sometimes colleagues confide in me if they have problems and I always make them smile.
Same with my patients.

But I just. I can't anymore. It's all one big fucking act. If I don't smile and pretend to have my shit together I break down.
I never got better, I just learned how to act better.

Every single day I drive to work wondering if anything I do is worthwhile.
Outside I am thriving. 
I have a job, I have shallow friendships, I get men and women who want to sleep with me. 
But I barely have any deep connections and my personal life is crumbling.
At this point, I have pushed away most of my close friends. 

I'm not confident, I'm narcissistic and have to look perfect or I'll start obsessively working out and restrict my eating again.
I'm not outgoing, I am paranoid of other people hating me and have to be friends with everyone around me.
I'm not happy, I make jokes so I don't start crying again.

I was always perfect. With the seemingly good family, the friendships, the looks. People want to _be_ me. People are _jealous_ of my life. People see the smile and the Instagram pictures, but they don't realise that I learned how to pretend. They don't realise that self harm can be hidden and social interactions studied. 

I am holding on for dear life, but nobody sees me struggle.