This morning I found myself shaking with anxiety as I tapped out a text to a formerly-known-as friend (?) explaining how much of a fucking flake I know I could be and how sorry I was. A feat that didn’t quite throw me into a major depressive spiral but it most certainly made me feel shitty, shitty, and all the things that do throw me into a shitty major depressive spiral.
But I’m here. On the 6 train. On my way to work armed with my well worn and trusty mask. Because depression don’t pay the fucking bills.