When I think of the illness of depression, is the first thing I imply thus a crying clown. Why..? Because it's easy in my eyes is the extreme. Is, it is the person who stands for humor, fun, joy of life, but this must always live on the front of his mask. The back of the mask is, nobody sees.
And so we try every day the masquerade (in the suit in which one throws herself) to true and the apparent outwardly, no one looks behind the mask or can look. but inside it is not a clown. It' is just sick