We are all around you. We are the walking wounded, the invisibly battle-scarred. You see us every day — in the grocery store, at carpool, at school pickup and dropoff, at PTA meetings, at the gym and at work and at the playground. You probably don’t know that we have a severe mental illness. We don’t plaster in on our foreheads, or go around announcing it. But it’s there. It’s always there. And even as we smile, even as we make small talk, even as we nod along with you; as we raise our kids and do our jobs and have our fun, it’s always there. Always looming. Always dominating everything.