My first lengthy depression hit in high school. There is a period that I recall as simply black and foggy. I have had two or three in the 20 years since then (Matt might say there have been more but that is all I can remember). Self analysis is not always such a bad thing. Over the years I have been able to recognize the onset of a depressive period for what it is and, more often than not, have been able to keep myself from falling in. If I don't catch it before it really gets going then I must ride it out with apologies to those around me.I know it freaks some of my family members out when I write about personal stuff, especially shortcomings. But, here's the thing: I was raised in a community in which households went to great lengths to project perfect facades. It drove me crazy. At best, the most perfect families were held up as examples to live by. At worst, when problems in those families came to light they were subject to the gossip mill with a little more glee than was seemly and also, it felt like being lied to. I guess my tendency to engage in what some may call over-sharing is a knee jerk reaction to past annoyances. If you haven't heard enough of my internal workings here today, come for a visit. I will give you a lemonade, sit you down on the back porch and we can self diagnose for hours! Sound like fun?
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