Today was one of my friend’s funeral but instead of going to it, I stayed at home. I couldn’t face it. I couldn’t say goodbye to him like that and I guess the worst thing is, he’s not getting buried. But then this was what he requested in his suicide note. Despite not going, I did get told that he did have a really good service played in church. I guess I’m angry at myself for not going. But I knew I couldn’t deal with it. Six funerals in six months isn’t the way I thought life would turn out. Everyone I spoke to keep saying it’s a test of how strong you can be. Sure I haven’t had another major meltdown but then how soon until I do? In a way I feel like I’m hiding behind a mask again with the happy face beaming. It’s not me, not the real me. Sometimes I wish things were simple and I could carry on living without so much sad news. Maybe next month will be the part where things finally start to turn over and more good news will happen. The one thing I can’t ignore though, is that each passing is taking a hit on my depression. I’m not giving up and nor will I fall down that hole of despair.