August 28, 2008:
Old friends, with nothing good to say.
What do they want? Why do they bother? Were we ever close? They don't know me.
I understand how my mother felt, as she dropped her acquaintances one by one.
With the rational corner of my brain I also understand how unsettling that comparison should be. She was the poster girl for untreated depression. As she retreated into self-isolation she swore she wasn't "sad". As neither am I. I'm struggling, I know it, and I don't know where to turn.
Not to those old "friends", though, with nothing good to say.