Sometimes, I get so consumed by depression that it is hard to believe that the whole world doesn't stop and suffer with me.

Oh, Ma, you're looking at all the trees, and I'm not even in the forest.

Everything's plastic, we're all gonna die.

That's the thing about depression: A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight. But depression is so insidious, and it compounds daily, that it's impossible to ever see the end. The fog is like a cage without a key.

A human being can survive almost anything, as long as she sees the end in sight!

Why does the rest of the world put up with the hypocrisy, the need to put a happy face on sorrow, the need to keep on keeping on?... I don't know the answer, I know only that I can't.

It's nonverbal: I need love. I need the thing that happens when your brain shuts off and your heart turns on. And I know it's around me somewhere, but I just can't feel it.