Depressed Sayings Novels & Stories

I’m an awful person. I set aside the bowl of fruit I was trying to eat. I’m not really in the mood. It’s been like this for a while now. Matthew says it’s because I’m depressed. Whatever made me happy before, that’s all gone now. I just can’t seem to get back up. Never in my life did I think food wouldn’t solve all my problems like it used to. No matter how tough the situation was before, place a plate of meat in front of me and I’d be glad. Even a bloody face won’t stop me from scarfing down some food.

My voice softened, almost swallowed by the weight of my despair. I lowered my head, feeling lightheaded, my vision blurring slightly. "I knew that you were exhausted, depressed. I saw it in your eyes when I was signing the divorce papers. I thought if I left, you might be able to go back to a normal life. If that day I had stood by your side, even forcefully, maybe you wouldn't have ended up like this." I laughed bitterly, a shiver running through my shoulders.

Mike echoed “ Don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t know you were such a Debbie Downer. Like I really don’t get why you would think that you should be burning in this self-loathing and depression, like let me tell you, it seriously feels Ike someone has kicked me in the balls and I don’t even have balls. “ Mike lowered the can of beer but he didn’t look at her nor did he speak.

The weight of this loss pressed down on my chest, suffocating me, as though I were trapped in the deepest depths of the ocean, unable to swim to the surface. Days turned into weeks, filled with restless nights and endless searching. The anxiety consumed me, gnawing at my every thought. I could feel my spirit breaking, my once vibrant demeanor fading into the shadows. I was falling into a maddening abyss of depression, and I couldn't find the strength to claw my way out.

“Everything you said to Luis on the phone, I heard it.” “No, you weren’t supposed to hear that because it’s just these thoughts that are just running in my head and I couldn’t stop saying all that. I can’t stop with these thoughts and it’s suffocating me, but I shouldn’t have said anything.” I tell him as I try to free my hands from his hold, but he only reaches out to wrap his arms around me trying to pull me close to him, but I couldn’t help moving my arms to get out of his hold. “Why can’t anyone get it? My depression just doesn’t go away even when you try and even then it’s better off showing everyone that you’re fine. It's tiring having to do that, but it's the only way.”

She smiled"yes, I'm a little unhappy. But sadness doesn't mean you're depressed. When it takes a span of weeks and then months and into a years, its called a depression. Anybody can be sad. " "Everyone should be. "He said. "What do you mean? " He did not respond. "You're intentionally detaching yourself, Mr Cain. You are struggling to make yourself robotic to the things you're feeling for the situations around you. " "This is the much reason I doubt anyone's prowess to help me. " "Its my job. " "You're doing it poorly. " "God, cain-" "Mrs moorman? " "Yes? " "You mentioned my name. " "How so? "

Bea groaned loudly, "Because you aren't about to be a sad little bitch who is depressed over a guy! There's so many fish in the sea! That's the saying, right?" I rolled my eyes, "Well, I am a sad little bitch who is depressed over a guy who doesn't want any other fish." Bea ran a hand down her face, "Come on, Jas." "I haven't heard a convincing enough reason," I muttered blandly. I didn't care how annoying and childish I was being. I was sad, they should just let me be sad in peace. "You might as well give up while you're ahead because nothing you guys will say is going to make me get out of my bed."

I said. "Well, if you did care then you wouldn't keep me chained in this hellhole," He said through gritted teeth. "I didn't come here to exchange words with you," I said and he looked away. "I've been feeling depressed lately. No one cares about me anymore not even the woman I love. To worsen it, things are not going the way I expected," I complained. "You know what to do, Dee. I'm sure you will come out of it," He said then coughed violently.

Now it’s my turn again. “Depression, that’s what we’re talking about. We rarely talk about this matter because we sometimes thought that whoever is depressed are ill. Is it an illness? No, it’s a state. A state where we no longer find meaning with everything that we do. We lose interest and we barely understand what’s going on around with you and your life. Suicidal thoughts, that is an alarming effect of depression and we have to talk about it. Sometimes we are placed in a situation where we don’t know who to talk to or who to approach to what’s going on with you if you couldn’t speak about it with your family or you couldn’t find comfort from a friend then, a stranger can listen to you and

“Do you usually sleep this late?” He grunted. “Like I said, damn tablets give me insomnia. So lately, yes.” I nodded. “Has Doc said how long it'll be for the side effects to wear off?” “Few weeks. Like normal.” I knew it was a touchy subject for Dad. As much as he hated the fact he was living without Mom, he hated appearing weak. To him, depression was a sign of weakness. It was not. Depression was a sign of strength – because it meant no matter how weak your mind might be to you, your heart is still strong enough to feel.