Quotes About Depression

Fear makes us curious. Sadness makes us philosophize. ("To be or not to be?" is a daily question for many depressives.)

Depression is also . . . Smaller than you. Always, it is smaller than you, even when it feels vast. It operates within you, you do not operate within it. It may be a dark cloud passing across the sky, but—if that is the metaphor—you are the sky.

Dengarkan baik-baik. Kalau selama ini anda percaya bahwa seseorang yang depresi ingin bahagia, anda salah. Mereka sama sekali tidak peduli betapa menyenangkannya kebahagiaan. Mereka hanya ingin kepedihan mereka lenyap. Mereka ingin menjadi "normal". Atau, karena merasa normal benar-benar mustahil, mereka ingin menjadi "kosong".

So what, you have a label? "Depressive." Everyone would have a label if they asked the right professional.

An annoying thing about depression is that thinking about life is inevitable. Depression makes thinkers out of all of us

the basis of depression as well as the difference between fear and despair. Fear was when you wandered into a cellar and worried that the door would close shut. Despair was when

the basis of depression as well as the difference between fear and despair. Fear was when you wandered into a cellar and worried that the door would close shut. Despair was when the door closed and locked behind you.

Fish get depressed when they have a lack of stimulation.

When you have a bout of mental illness for the first time, you imagine this is how your life is going to be for ever. You will have depression punctuated by panic attacks and that is how things will stay. And that was terrifying. The claustrophobia of it. There seemed no way out.

Yesterday I knew I had no future, and that it was impossible for me to accept my life as it is now. And yet today, that same messy life seems full of hope. Potential. The impossible, I suppose, happens via living. Will my life be miraculously free from pain, despair, grief, heartbreak, hardship, loneliness, depression? No. But do I want to live? Yes. Yes. A thousand times, yes.

Si ce, ai o eticheta? "Depresiv". Toata lumea ar purta o eticheta daca ar intreba pe specialistul care trebuie.

April, she had died. April could still be a very cold month in Ithaca, though it was certainly not the best month for dying of exposure. A depressed person would have a better bet walking along the edge of one of the gorges and "accidentally" falling in. Of course the man Jessop had done neither; hand-making his daughter's tombstone had probably kept him too occupied to even consider suicide. Yes. That was it; that was the key. An act of creation in the face of loss.

I believe depression is legitimate. But I also believe that if you don't: -exercise -eat nutritious foods -get sunlight -get enough sleep -consume positive material -surround yourself with support Then you aren't giving yourself a fighting chance.

The news is an addictive product. Like cigarettes, this product can have a profound negative impact on your health. Almost without exception it will make you lonelier, more anxious, more distrustful of others, and more depressed.

that life deal with it,life must go on,if we dont then we find ourself in a black hole which we cant get out of....never ending depression

Thus, the depressed tissue state is (1) likely to invite bacterial and parasitic invasion and (2) likely to be encouraged by that invasion. Actual poisons, bug and snake venoms, and unhealthy foods and drinks can also cause putrefaction.

In the depressed tissue state, circulation is usually retarded so that there is a lack of circulation to the extremities, resulting in cold hands and feet.

The major organs affected by the depressed tissue state are the colon, liver, pancreas, lymphatic/immune system, blood and cardiovascular system. In extreme cases the nervous system is damaged.

St. John's Wort is indicated in chronic illness associated with chronic pain, nervous exhaustion, emotional depression, mental and physical weakness.

In depression, all that is happening in the present is the anticipation of pain in the future, and the present qua present no longer exists at all.

My sense of touch was floating six feet away from me; if anyone entered my room, I would cry out, but the knife was serenely cutting me up. Yes, I became a skeleton. At night my thinness would rise up before me to terrify me. As it came and went it insulted me, it tired me out; oh, I was certainly very tired.

There was no life Dennis burned to live except, it seemed, a life that wasn't depressed.

And besides, I'm not a writer. I don't go to coffeehouses and smoke, wear black, and analyze Sylvia Plath to the point of depression.

Without quite noticing it, I had slid downward to a place where, as Styron put it, "all sense of hope had vanished, along with the idea of a futurity.