im taking a moment to ponder who is the real me.
does depression and anxiety consuming me reveal or hide myself?
am i more “real” when im happy or “happy”?
perhaps both?
im not sure.
i hope i don’t break again tonight.
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I can relate with your thoughts, but I like to think that our depression and anxiety do not define who we are but rather help us understand ourselves. Where it all started. Why we do what we do today. Why we are depressed and anxious all the time. It is hell having both. I understand that. Here is a weird question, what does identify us as “real”?