... Depression is like slogging through the murkiest, densest November fog you can imagine, during that hour of the night when you're sure that light will never dawn again.
Not only does a soul feel unlit ... a shadow among shadows ... but is not able to know of light ... is bereft of a consciousness of light, of being, of relation ...
... Depression can be a grave insult to a person -- not as a mockery; our minds call it so -- but an injury so deep and entire that the wound cannot be discerned from the person, or the person from the wound ...
... There are days when I am convinced that I don't have a will. I have a won't. Or a can't.
... Depression = volitional paralysis.
