#depress

There is no point treating a depressed person as though she were just feeling sad, saying, 'There now, hang on, you'll get over it.' Sadness is more or less like a head cold- with patience, it passes. Depression is like cancer. ↗

— Barbara Kingsolver

#sadness #person

Even when I try to stir myself up, I just get irritated because I can't make anything come out. And in the middle of the night I lie here thinking about all this. If I don't get back on track somehow, I'm dead, that's the sense I get. There isn't a single strong emotion inside me. ↗

— Banana Yoshimoto

#depression #kitchen #emotion

Because that’s the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don’t want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs. I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It’s mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time. ↗

— Stephanie Perkins

#comfort

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. ↗

— Elizabeth Wurtzel

#end

Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence--but more generally takes the form of apathy ↗

— Joseph Conrad

#depression #grief #violence

Between death and hell a bridge shining silver wings offers his soul hope. ↗

— Aberjhani

#angels-and-demons #bridges #death #depression #desperation

Hope drowned in shadows emerges fiercely splendid–– boldly angelic. ↗

— Aberjhani

#angels #courage #faith #haiku #haikus

Almost everyone is overconfident--except the people who are depressed, and they tend to be realists. ↗

— Joseph T. Hallinan

#depression #psychology #realists #psychology

Somehow, like so many people who get depressed, we felt our depressions were more complicated and existentially based than they actually were. ↗

— Kay Redfield Jamison

#memoir

In its severe forms, depression paralyzes all of the otherwise vital forces that make us human, leaving instead a bleak, despairing, desperate, and deadened state. . .Life is bloodless, pulseless, and yet present enough to allow a suffocating horror and pain. All bearings are lost; all things are dark and drained of feeling. The slippage into futility is first gradual, then utter. Thought, which is as pervasively affected by depression as mood, is morbid, confused, and stuporous. It is also vacillating, ruminative, indecisive, and self-castigating. The body is bone-weary; there is no will; nothing is that is not an effort, and nothing at all seems worth it. Sleep is fragmented, elusive, or all-consuming. Like an unstable, gas, an irritable exhaustion seeps into every crevice of thought and action. ↗

— Kay Redfield Jamison

#life