Novel & Cerita Depressed Private Story Names

C H A P T E R 2 : T H E B L U E E N V E L O P E ~ Being depressed is like falling into a black hole that you can not climb out of. Depression is a wound that never heals. A wound in the back of your mind that can’t be touched because it hurts too much. It’s always there and never goes away. Constant pain, a constant reminder. Every thought is a battle, every breath is a war, and you will lose on both fronts if you give it a chance.

October 21 Dear Diary, I'm really really sad. I'm depressed. Nothing makes sense to me anymore. If someone showed me the rainbow in my present state, I would only see black and white because the world has lost all colour to me. I cannot talk to anybody about how I feel. Worse is, I miss my son. I miss Nate. My mom thinks it's best he remains in Switzerland with Aunty Cara. She wants to keep him a secret. I find myself taking the bus these days and roaming around town aimlessly dressed like a homeless girl. What if someone sees me? The Flora Vanderbilt. Everyone would be scandalized.

Ethan The room was dimly lit and the heavy curtains blocked out the harsh sun that dared remind me of how far I had fallen. I was lying straight on the hotel bed, staring at the ceiling with an empty whiskey glass on the nightstand. My phone buzzed, breaking through the thick haze of self-pity that had settled over me. I was tired of living. I was feeling depressed and I didn't know how to handle myself. I ignored it at first, letting it vibrate into the mattress. Probably just work. Another email about something I could not bring myself to care about right now.

"And then there's Jack, the older man who seems lost and confused. He's been struggling with Alzheimer's disease, and has been slowly losing his memories and his sense of identity. It's heartbreaking to see him struggle to remember his own name, or the faces of his loved ones." I listened, entranced, as Dexter told me the stories of the other patients. There was Sarah, the teenager who had been struggling with anorexia and body dysmorphia. There was Michael, the veteran who had been struggling with PTSD and flashbacks. And there was Rachel, the young mother who had been struggling with postpartum depression and anxiety. As Dexter told me their stories, I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe

Silas I've been down bad, worse than I ever imagined I could be. I'm stuck in it—a depressive spiral that keeps dragging me deeper and deeper. Days blur together, a haze of gray. I force myself through the motions of work, put on the mask everyone expects from me, but at the end of the day, I'm hollow and wrung out. By the time I drag myself into bed, I don't bother pretending anymore. I just let the silence swallow me whole.

A new post from the same anonymous account. "That was just the beginning. Over the next few days, I'll be posting more of Lila's stories. Stories about other guys at school. You might even find yourself in one of them. Stay tuned to see just how perverted Lila Richmond really is." My hands were shaking. This person did not just have one story. They had multiple stories. Stories about different people. I had written so many over the past year. Stories to process my confusing feelings. Stories about Ryan. Stories about Derek before I knew him. Stories about random guys I found attractive. Stories that were never meant to be read by anyone.

So I confessed and told her everything. Maybe I should have lied from the onset that I got stuck in the woods alone. I sighed deeply and walked to my bed. Who even changes their names from Gnash to Dash. It’s like changing your name from Simeon to Simon. Or Angelica to Angelina. Or from Filipe to Filip. Or from… Whatever! I laid down on my bed tiredly. Everything is just against me going to this party. My age, the party cloth which mum fucking seized, and mum herself and my phone.

I had no idea I was receiving a regular payment until I checked my private bank account and saw six digits there with more than one at the front. Right after I moved in, I decided to work on my business plan to attract investors, but then I found the presentation I once prepared for Aren. I started crying; that's how my depression began... I had hardly eaten throughout the day, and then ate the whole box of ice cream at midnight. I didn't call anyone, and I hardly left the room. I refused to watch TV since whenever I saw a man wearing a blue suit, it reminded me of Aren. I had mood swings: I nearly crashed my phone because I couldn't find the information I needed, and then started crying rig

She asked, hoping to hear more about me apart from my name. "What about it?" I asked. She was quiet for a while, probably thinking of what to reply to what I just asked. She looked at me and finally said, "Well, tell me a secret you wouldn't tell anyone... Ever." She asked with a smile. If the question couldn't have knocked my back into my depression and misery quicker than I had expected, then I probably wouldn't have spared her question a second thought. With depression and alcohol on working lethally against my sane reasoning, I turned to her and with all sincerity and heaviness said, "I'm a rich spoiled kid that can never be like my brother no matter how hard I tried. And I wished my par

Playlist~ Coldplay - Scientist One week later Micaela's POV All throughout the night until this morning I couldn't catch some sleep, it was as if I drank so much coffee that caused my insomnia. Last night isn't the only night that this has happened, if I'm not mistaken I've been having insomnia for more than a week now. After signing my divorce papers with his new lawyer, depression took it hold on me and that really paralyzed my thinking, the only thing I found myself doing was writing, I started writing book 2 of Shattered Hearts. I don't understand how I still got the inspiration to write, maybe is because I was penning down my real-life story.