Depression Stories That Make You Cry Novels & Stories

The events of the day had left me feeling depressed, and I just wanted to escape the pain and humiliation. *** As I entered the elevator heading to Lorenzo's apartment, memories of the day's events came flooding back. Tears began to fall down my eyes, and I frantically wiped them away, wondering why I was crying now. I didn't want to cry; I just wanted to stop, but the tears kept falling. I tried to suppress myself, but it was no use. I cleaned my eyes, took a deep breath in and out, and tried to compose myself. Finally, I arrived at his door, hoping against hope that I wouldn't cry again.

(Nisha's POV) I broke down in tears. It was uncontrollable. All my emotions joined together and invaded me at the same time. I couldn't keep the emotions in anymore. I had to sob. That was the only way to find relief for myself. "Stop crying. You will be fine," Maddox told me slowly. He held me hands and kneaded it slowly. That didn't leave any impact in my mind. I felt the same. I continued crying harder. The more I remembered the sort of trouble I had gotten myself into, the more I felt I was going to get rejected by Maddox and the more I thought about that, the more I got depressed.

It hurt so much my knees gave out. My whole body shook. I stumbled toward my mother's room. It was empty. A single letter rested on the pillow. My hands trembled as I opened it. [Dear Wilde,] [Don't be sad. Mom is just going to see your dad again.] [Mara is right. A life-saving debt is the hardest debt to repay. She saved me twice. Without her, I would've died a long time ago. But that debt is mine, not yours.] [You have your own future ahead of you. Don't let gratitude become your chains. Keep moving forward. Live a happy life.]

I believe it was called a selfie. They looked so happy, so in love. I imagine if they were both still alive that we would take pictures like this together. A tear drops on the picture and I wipe my cheek. I kiss the picture and place it back gently as I close the album and sigh, looking at the flames again. I have slipped into depression. Being here at home is making me worse. The reality of what has happened and is happening hits me hard, making me cry harder. The ache grows worse and if I could, I would end it all.

I couldn't let the world see how much Trent had broken me. But behind closed doors, I used to break down into tears. I used to have a bad breakdown that left me drained and numb. I was drowning. I was deep in depression. I was dead inside. And what was harder was the smile I used to fake for the world. The same world that mocked and ridiculed me. One time I came back home after I quit working at Pixel TV.

I won't cry for something as stupid as this, neither of them is worth my golden tears. No matter how hard I tried, the tears refuse to stop. “Fuck! When did I become so fucking pathetic? I can't believe I am about to cry for a stupid bitch and a fucking imbecile." I choke out, laughing and crying at the same time. Right now, my emotions are a fucking roller-coaster. “It is not what you think babe, I swear on the moon goddess." Alena meekly tells me, but I hear none of it. The mate bond may have turned me into a depressed woman on her period, but I won't let it turn me into a fucking fool.

" We can't have a real conversation like this, clean your tears, calm down, and then we can talk," "I am crying because I am sad, I am devastated by all that is happening!" She yelled back, holding on to the wash hand basin for support. "Stop crying! This is not the time to cry!" "You are not gonna tell me what to do. I have no family, I have no friends. Nobody cares for me. Nobody will ever care for me like my father did! The only family I have now is my son, his health is failing, and you expect me to not cry? I have been battling with depression for over five years! My whole life is a mess!" She yelled, her face turning red with anger and despair.

I'm miserable. I shake away all of my depressive thoughts before finally bringing myself to my feet, no longer wanting to cry against his shower floor. The warm water runs down my face, washing away all of my tears as I lather my skin in Jack's body wash. After scrubbing away all of the dirt stuck within my pores I finally decide to step out of the shower, seeing as I've probably been sitting in here crying for more than an hour.

Now I was there, in the bathroom of a bar, suffering for lost friendships and loves. I fought against the desire to bend down and lie down in a fetal position, because that was the desire. My biggest problem was that my depressive crises did not come with crying and despair. They came with apathy, lack of emotions, and the desire to let the earth swallow me. I haven't cried in a long time. I haven't felt it in a long time. And no one ever expected that someone like me would have an end like that. No one ever imagined that Penelope Maxwell would become a shell of her past.

“She’s not worth it. She’s nothing. You’re everything. You hear me? You’re still here. We’re still here.” But I wasn’t. Not really. The depression hit like a truck after that. Days blurred into weeks, hospital to home, home to couch, couch to bed. Rowan was a saint cooking terrible soup , massaging my feet when they cramped from lying around too much, bringing me tea I didn’t drink, telling stupid jokes that made me want to punch him and hug him at the same time. But inside it was just black. Heavy. Endless.