You know, one of the awful things about depression, even when you do finally move on from it, and grow into a much happier person (as I've been doing by leaps and bounds the past several years), is that you become acutely aware of all the people you've hurt throughout the years because of it.
The names, faces, voices, and shared joys of all the people you've lost because you were who you were hover at the back of your mind. The pain you caused them continues to ache in the dark recesses of your brain, reminding you of who you once were.
Of course, then comes the desire to reach out, to reconnect, to rebuild bridges long collapsed, but should you? Maybe it's better to let healed wounds stay healed. I mean, they've moved on with their lives... shouldn't you?
