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.
Elizabeth Wurtzel
Everything's plastic, we're all gonna die.
death die
I start to feel like I cant maintain the facade any longer, that I may just start to show through. And I wish I knew what was wrong. Maybe something about how stupid my whole life is. I dont know. 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 dont know the answer, I know only that I cant. I don't want any more vicissitudes, I don't want any more of this try, try again stuff. I just want out. Ive had it. I am so tired. I am twenty and I am already exhausted.
life rest depression world sorrow happy wrong feel start hypocrisy face tired stupid answer
It seemed like this was one big Prozac nation, one big mess of malaise. Perhaps the next time half a million people gather for a protest march on the White House green it will not be for abortion rights or gay liberation, but because were all so bummed out.
rights people time depression abortion gay protest nation green mess liberation white big house
And then there are my friends, and they have their own lives. While they like to talk everything through, to analyze and hypothesize, what I really need, what I'm really looking for, is not something i can articulate. It's nonverbal: I need love. I need the thing that happens when your brain turns off and your heart turns on.
heart friends lives brain talk love thing
I feel like a defective model, like I came off the assembly line flat-out fucked and my parents should have taken me back for repairs before the warranty ran out.
parents model feel
The biggest problem that women have is being ambivalent about their own power,.. We should be comfortable with the idea of wielding power. We shouldn't feel that it detracts from our femininity.
women idea power problem feel femininity comfortable
Insanity is knowing that what you're doing is completely idiotic, but still, somehow, you just can't stop it.
knowing insanity stop
key theend human depression end survive impossible sight cage thing
.. Occasionally I wished I could walk through a picture window and have the sharp, broken shards slash me to ribbons so I would finally look like I felt.
depression broken picture window walk
I start to think there really is no cure for depression, that happiness is an ongoing battle, and I wonder if it isn't one I'll have to fight for as long as I live. I wonder if it's worth it.
wonder wonders worth happiness live depression battle start fight cure
Sometimes I wish I could walk around with a HANDLE WITH CARE sign stuck to my forehead. Sometimes I wish that there were a way to let people know that just because I live in a world without rules, and in a life that is lawless, doesn't mean that it doesn't hurt so bad the morning after. Sometimes I think that I was forced to withdraw into depression because it was the only rightful protest I could throw in the face of a world that said it was alright for people to come and go as they please, that there were simply no real obligations left.
rules life people live depression real world hurt protest bad morning care face walk left sign
It's the people you are close to, the ones who love you, theo nes who have seen your heart, who have touched your soul- to them, it is obvious that something is wrong or missing. Your heart and soul are missing. They feel it. It hurts them. It kills them.
people soul heart wrong feel missing close love
I wonder if any of them can tell from just looking at me that all I am is the sum total of my pain, a raw woundedness so extreme that it might be terminal. It might be terminal velocity, the speed of the sound of a girl falling down to a place from where she can't be retrieved. What if I am stuck down here for good?
sound pain speed good girl falling place extreme
I always carry lots of stuff with me wherever I roam, always weighted down with books, with cassettes, with pens and paper, just in case I get the urge to sit down somewhere, and oh, I don't know, read something or write my masterpiece. I want all my important possessions, my worldly goods, with me at all times. I want to hold what little sense of home I have left with me always. I feel so heavy all the time, so burdened. This must be a little bit like what it's like to be a bag lady, to drag your feet here, there, and everywhere, nowhere at all.
time home sense feel write times possessions read lady masterpiece important paper left books heavy
Embrace fanaticism. Harness joie de vivre by pursuing insane interests, consuming passions, and constant sources of gratification that do not depend on the approval of others
joy
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