Like a show on the television, you can watch but you can't join in.
Like being a model in a window display, outwards looking happy and normal but separated by a pane of glass.
The thoughts that go through your mind can't be expressed without feeling like a drama queen or that you are attention seeking. It is exhausting reaching out asking for help and risking hurting others with your pain. Mostly because they just cannot understand the daily struggle to get up and do day to day things and how everything is a chore that seems like climbing Mt Everest. They cannot understand is all you want to do is curl up in bed and just disappear quietly with as little fuss as possible.
The things I find hard are knowing that I have to take medication to even feel vaguely normal. That everyday I feel bad I risk my children picking up on my misery and thinking it is their fault. That my parents blame themselves in some way for my depression, I suspect also my husband feels that way too. Their pain at not being able to fix me, kiss it better or make it just go away. They haven't told me these things but I can imagine they would feel that way because if it was my children I would.