Someone, I don't remember who - maybe it was me - some years ago described me thus.
I think that, for a certain type of depression, "passing" in the real world requires feats of mental energy that can only be achieved by being allowed the occasional periods of withdrawal.
It is not that you put on the happy like a mask; the happiness is not an act. Happy is what you are, and what you want, but chemicals, circumstances, wiring beyond your control fight to suppress this. And each day you wake up and fight back. Because you are angry, because you are determined, because it is a case of wanting and loving life so much that each day you have to arm yourself to engage with it.
But this comes at a cost. We live in a world where people are expected to be A (normal) or B(abnormal) at all times. But not a one of us is defined by a letter or a diagnosis.
To get through, to get by, to hold down a job or enjoy a relationship or be a parent - all of us, to one degree or another, need to extend an effort when we get up each day because the world does not abide by "I can't do it today".
But sometimes, you CAN'T. And I know that, for me, the hardest part is wanting to not just BE there, but to be HAPPY there.
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