My Dearest Mortals, welcome back. Let’s cut to the chase, shall we…

How well do you know your neighbor? Better yet, how well do you think you know them? 

What we think we know or see isn’t always the complete picture. Often, we just see the terrifying wizard and not the man behind the curtain. These masks come in many forms, and sometimes we don’t even realize we are being fooled. It takes a sharp eye (and an empathetic heart) to see through a well-crafted façade.

I know a thing or two about these masks. As it happens, I am quite good at using them myself. I know you’re asking yourself “Why, Mr. Denizen? Why would anyone need to mask their true feelings?”, and the answer is both complicated and different from person to person. I can only truly speak for myself and my own experiences, so let’s start there.

Though I was diagnosed as clinically depressed at the age of eighteen, my symptoms actually began at around age thirteen. For five whole years, I had no idea what was happening to me. And I was a child too. It was all very confusing for me. I was led to believe, by all those older than me, that it was just me and I needed to be “straightened out”. So, I started employing the use of masks, and I pretended that everything was fine. As you can imagine, it made things infinitely worse. Hiding, and not addressing, the problem only made it grow. Like some hungry ooze monster from a cheesy sci-fi movie, it fed and grew, and masking only became harder. It was truly a nightmare masquerade. 

But over time, and with the occasional slip up, I became pretty good at wearing the mask. Even now, twenty years later, I wear it. I must, so that I can get through each day. I wear it to work, and I wear it at social gatherings, and I even wear it when I’m with family. Very, very few have been able to see past the mask. I’ve even, occasionally, fooled myself a bit.

Not everyone has to resort to such methods to get through each day, but there are many like me who don masks regularly. Just know you are not alone. If the mask becomes too much of a burden, please reach out to someone. Anyone. Like everyone who suffers from mental illness, I have asked the question at least once: would the world be better without me in it?

The answer is no. You might not feel it, or even know it, but you add so much light to this world. Removing yourself from it won’t stop the pain, it simply passes it to someone else. (I read that on a shirt once, and it’s so true.) Please, if you ever feel the need to go down that road, reach out to someone. There are even hotlines set aside for such things, and they will help you. 

Just remember that you are beautiful as you are: flaws, masks, and all. This world is a better place because you’re in it. 

This is the denizen under the bridge, signing off.