And that’s the most frustrating thing about depression. It isn’t always something you can fight back against with hope. It isn’t even something — it’s nothing. And you can’t combat nothing. You can’t fill it up. You can’t cover it. It’s just there, pulling the meaning out of everything. That being the case, all the hopeful, proactive solutions start to sound completely insane in contrast to the scope of the problem.
It would be like having a bunch of dead fish, but no one around you will acknowledge that the fish are dead. Instead, they offer to help you look for the fish or try to help you figure out why they disappeared.
You know when you read something that’s so accurate that you don’t know how to words?
Guys, look! A little jiggle! You can see her skin bunch up when she moves! She looks real and healthy! And you know what else? She looks damn fab.
Yessss! She’s gorgeous!
me. just gimmie 3 years. sweeear
noot even, maybe less
Fred McFeely Rogers (March 20, 1928 – February 27, 2003)
Oh. Sobbing. Okay.
why am i actually crying at this
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