As I sat crumpled on the floor of my living room, my head in my hands, sobbing, I felt her little hand on my shoulder. “You okay, mom?” she asked, in her baby way. It was too late, I couldn’t hide it from her anymore. She had seen it. After battling for over a decade with depression and anxiety, I’ve finally started to open up to family and friends about my invisible struggles.
Read the rest of this personal story at The Globe and Mail…