Friends of the Depressed

What is a party without friends?

I know they mean well, but what they don’t understand is: friendship requires a lot of energy, energy I don’t have right now. It’s really hard to smile, to listen, to put myself out there.

I know they are concerned.

It was snowing here and I had to get a piece of mail in the post, so I drove through the storm, while one of my kids was trying to call.

I did not answer. My knuckles were clutching the steering wheel and truth be told, my ringer may have been off. So my kid called a friend to come and check on me.

I got home and did what every wise New Englander should do…put on my p.j.s and got into bed. My friend, who is beyond compare, drove through the storm with dinner and rang my doorbell.

I peeked out the window beside the door, thinking “Who the hell…?”

She saw me, peeking, otherwise, I would have hid.

I was exhausted. The last thing I wanted to do was talk or interact.

I opened the door, refused her dinner, but told her I was struggling and taking medication. She hugged me, professed her love for me and left after at least half an hour.

I am grateful. But exhausted and ashamed.




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