Two weeks ago or so, my sister called me. She asked me how I was. Normally I just say I am fine and we have a fairly insubstantial conversation. This time, I took a risk. I told her that my depression was very bad and that I was not doing so well. I have not heard from her since.
In my family it is best to pretend all is well all the time. Neither my brother, sister, and especially my father, can deal with any other kind of answer. It's no wonder that my depression persists. The very mention of it scares people off. Oh well. It's not like I am not used to that.
But I am doing better, bit by bit. It helps that I am excruciatingly busy and will only get more busy. I just got a big commission. It is an exciting project and $$$ also. But I must finish it, at least in some form, by March or so.