Quotes About Struggle

Lincoln is not the only famous leader to have battled depression. Winston Churchill lived with the 'black dog' for much of his life too. Watching a fire, he once remarked to a young researcher he was employing: 'I know why logs spit. I know what it is to be consumed.

Everything in human life was a test. That was why they all looked so stressed out.

Like I was falling even while I was standing still. Aching limbs.

I was better. I was better. But it only takes a doubt. A drop of ink falls into a clear glass of water and clouds the whole thing. So the moment after I realized I wasn't perfectly well was the moment I realized I was still very ill indeed.

The more 'success' you get, the easier it is to be disappointed by not getting things. The only difference is that now no one feels sorry for you.

And hope was often irrational. It made no sense. If it had made sense, it would have been called, well, sense. The other thing about hope was that it took effort, and I had never been used to effort.

As she stared at the magazine cover - an image of a black hole - she realized that's what she was. A black hole. A dying star, collapsing in on itself

She had loved no one, and no one had loved her back. She had been empty, her life had been empty, walking around, faking some kind of human normality like a sentient mannequin of despair. Just the bare bones of getting through.

I've let people down. I haven't always been easy. I've done things I regret. I was a bad wife. Not always a good mother, either. People have given up a little on me, and I don't entirely blame them.

Depression lies. And while the feelings themselves were real, the things they led me to believe were resolutely not.

This is what happens when you live on Earth. You crack. You hold reality in your hands until it burns and then you have to drop the plate.

Back in Mother Ivy's time I would have been obliged to cook you gingerbread and show you my spickle dancing, and yet now I have permission to chop you up into little pieces. I cry myself to sleep every night, and feel dead inside, but society is definitely improving.

IT'S A WEIRD thing, depression. Even now, writing this with a good distance of fourteen years from my lowest point, I haven't fully escaped.

You need to feel life's terror to feel its wonder.

Nora shook her head. Wishing it would fall off. Her own head. Onto the floor.

The weirdest thing about a mind is that you can have the most intense things going on in there but no one else can see them. The world shrugs. Your pupils might dilate. You may sound incoherent. Your skin might shine with sweat. And there was no way anyone seeing me in that villa could have known what I was feeling, no way they could have appreciated the strange hell I was living through, or why death seemed such a phenomenally good idea.

Life is pain," he said, sadly. "But it's also magic, Papa.

If what I feel were equally distributed to the whole human family, there would not be one cheerful face on the earth. Whether I shall ever be better I cannot tell; I awfully forebode I shall not. To remain as I am is impossible. I must die or be better.

At its worst you find yourself wishing, desperately, for any other affliction, any physical pain, because the mind is infinite, and its torments – when they happen – can be equally infinite.

And they seem so damn happy to have made it and you don't resent them, but you do resent yourself for not having their ability to work it all out. Do you? Or is this maze just for me?

The Last Update That Nora Had Posted Before She Found Herself Between Life and Death I miss my cat. I'm tired.

There was more to her than a flat line of mild to moderate depression, spiced up with occasional flourishes of despair.

Mornings were hard on Earth. You woke up tireder than when you went to sleep. Your back ached. Your neck ached. Your chest felt tight with anxiety that came from being mortal. And then, on top of all that, you had to do so much before the day even started.

Comfort for me is not about everything being perfect. It is about finding comfort despite life being imperfect, being occasionally harsh and brutal. The resilience we find in the hard times is what makes us strong in all seasons.