Today I went to work afraid that I smell. That my boss would pull me over and want to talk about it. I shower once or twice a day. But I have not done laundry for awhile. I haven't worn underwear for weeks, I have none clean and I won't wear dirty. I am wearing a  clean dress today (the dresses are rarely worn so they remain clean til the last) but I have no underwear beneath my tights. I am careful. No one can tell. Perhaps some think I even look pulled together. But I feel shame, dirty, smelly

. 

I feel bloated from wine and lack of exercise and easy food. But on the whole I am not unattractive. Men are attracted to me, at least sexually. or they think I am cute enough. 

I have to act most days. I guess the theatre classes of my 20s have come in handy. I force a smile as I walk down the hall at work. I have heard that a smile activates endorphins in the brain. It's worth trying. I repeat "May all beings be happy, May all beings be well" under my breath as I walk along the street. 

I can be honest with many of my friends about my emotions. But I soon reach a limit, for me and for them. After years of therapy I can honestly say I am tired of talking about myself. Talking about the same shit. Sounding like a broken record.  I wouldn't want to listen to it and often expressing it is not a relief. and sometimes there are consequences.

There are a couple of people I can tell about the depression. at least some of it.

perhaps because they have been depressed before.  Of course that is no guarantee that they will understand, every flavor of depression differs. There may be the fear of not wanting to be dragged under when one is doing well.

Others I shield for their benefit or mine. They want to help and panic sets in when they cannot fix. It's not their fault, no one can fix me. Or they say condescending things without meaning to be hurtful. I made a new friend and after a few months he seemed like a very open accepting, eccentric guy. A musician.  Perhaps another sufferer in the closet.  So one day I broached the subject with him. His response, Are you sure you are doing the things that truly make you happy? I didn't know what to say. 

And then there are those at work who cannot see the cracks, especially now. Not when finding a new job would be even more difficult. Once when my boss was unhappy with my performance, I told her I had some medical issues but I was taking care of it. My gut is she is not the type that would get it, although she is a perfectly nice person. I don't plan on saying any more. until I have to. A friend of hers at work once eluded to it and I said something under my breath about a cancer scare, which actually was the truth. Taking care of it was way easier than the depression.

But sometimes I long to tell everyone. as if it were nothing.