I've dealt with chronic depression on and off for quite some time. No shame in getting help, taking meds, or doing alternative practices to manage it when I've needed to. No shame in talking about it, either. Professionally I remain discreet, but family and friends know. Anyone who would judge or criticize me for it doesn't understand depression.

I’ve had episodes of depression since age 17. I rarely take meds, unless the suicidal thoughts are increasing, because I hate that numb feeling. Usually I just go through it.
Those close to me know, because I talk about it. I’m fairly introverted though, so many have no idea.

I was fine this morning. Then my coworker irritated me. Then I took a nap as we drove. Then I was better.
He knows I live in hell and I don’t hide it. Fuck it, why hide my hatred and my pain? I cope by knowing that I’ll be dead one day, that everyone else will be dead, too. One day, the entire species will be dead. That gives me comfort