Quotes About Deep Depression Novels & Stories

How will she go back home? She saw a bench at the road side and she took the seat there. The clouds started to get dark and within a few minutes it started to snow. "Everything's against me. What have I done so wrong in my life that my punishment isn't ending?" She complained. 'Just kill yourself. Zion will be happy, Daniel will be happy and who knows maybe you will get some happiness in the next life.' The subconscious whispers and these are the moments which make the depressed people take some hideous steps.

I know I can do better, she thought sourly. “What’s up with you, Heather? You’ve been acting all gloomy lately. Come on, you should be more upbeat. You’re Heather Langston for God’s sake! You were iconic on campus, and everyone wanted to be like you. You shouldn’t think less of yourself,” Leon cheered presently. He could tell how dejected and unsure she was of herself these days. If this carried on, it would only be a matter of time before she spiraled into depression. Presently, Heather stretched out like a starfish on the bed and mused woefully, “Oh, how meaningless life has become!” She had no qualms about dwelling in sadness, not when she had Leon next to her.

I couldn't have been more completely incorrect. Is it just me, or do you think it's a little pretentious for all of us to give each other a little life, a little hope, in order to climb our way out of the dark pit we've fallen into? Did you hear those beautiful words about how tomorrow is a new beginning and how we should be able to recognize that the darkness is there to help us appreciate the light? Despite my reluctance to admit it, I am also a sucker for these wonderful nothings; however, there is a voice deep inside telling me that I may never be able to claw my way out of this ravine known as depression. Honestly, it's hard to believe I'm saying this, but I trust that small voice more

“I’m just going out for a bit, Ate Rose. I need some coffee.” “Coffee won’t help you sleep. Have warm milk; there’s some in the jar.” Ruth nodded, “Okay, sorry for waking you up.” “Don’t worry. We’re all worried about you. Mom keeps asking about you. She’s afraid you might do something drastic.” She scoffed, “Tiya Mening is exaggerating. I’m not thinking about that.” “Well, we don’t know. When a person is depressed, rational thinking goes out the window. Depression is a formidable foe, Ruth Mirabelle.”

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.]

Summer held her cell phone to her ear, furrowing her brows and kneading her forehead with her hand. Sherman was crying again. “Summer, things have been peaceful recently until now. I have been trying my best to forget the incident and not to talk about it. I am calm; so calm that I started to be surprised by myself. I am actually depressed and feeling horrible. I feel like my head is going to explode. I feel like drinking. Where are you? Can you come out and drink with me?” Sometimes, getting too depressed is not a good thing, as it could manifest as a superficial calmness.

In Amber’s experience, rich and beautiful people were often the most lonely and depressed of all. Just like death itself, depression didn’t discriminate. It didn’t give a fuck about how old or young you were, your economic status, or where you came from. But it usually fucked up where you were going, without the proper support and treatment. Amber had seen many people in her life suffering from it. She had experienced the horror and devastation of post- partum depression herself, compounded by the pain of giving her son up. Even on her darkest days, Amber really didn’t want to die, she only wanted to stop the pain, and death seemed like the only way back then.

"You didn't want to, i....i threw myself....." "Don't say such silly things, don't say them to me and don't say them to yourself". He said cutting me short. "God, it's why you're so depressed. You always assume the very worst".

I slow down when I enter a small dustbowl town and creep through at twenty-five miles an hour as the speed sign dictates. I’m sleepy, and a few hours ago, a sense of melancholy descended. It happens from time to time. It’s another reason I fight. When you’re someone like me, there’s nowhere to go for depression. Hell, I don’t need some fucking head shrink to call a spade a spade. My wiring is fucked up and fighting cures all my evils.

In fact, I would be kicked out within a twinkle of an eye. Ugh!! My life is depressing. Did I mention depression? Yes, depression is a core part of poverty. You waltz into depression camp like you own the goddamn place. Life can never look any better. So, we (my father, mother, and I) have been living like we don’t own our lives for the past few years until something happened.