Silence is one of worst, most vocal enemies, yet people go through many bouts of depression not sharing what is happening. People don’t understand that, but as someone who suffers from it, I can tell you that it’s difficult to be objective about the gray. I described depression to my therapist as a misty fog that surrounds me, heavy on my shoulders, pervading everything and nothing at all. I liken depression to a bird stealing into the depths of your soul, pecking at your disposition until nothing is left. And that is when you break into pieces. Rachel Thompson
You're like a grey sky. You're beautiful, even though you don't want to be.
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Jasmine Warga
My mother, poor fish, wanting to be happy, beaten two or three times aweek, telling me to be happy: "Henry, smile! why don't you ever smile?"and then she would smile, to show me how, and it was thesaddest smile I ever saw
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Charles Bukowski
Depression is the flaw in love. To be creatures who love, we must be creatures who can despair at what we lose, and depression is the mechanism of that despair.
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Andrew Solomon
In a strange way, I had fallen in love with my depression. Dr. Sterling was right about that. I loved it because I thought it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so...
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Elizabeth Wurtzel
When you're lost in those woods, it sometimes takes you a while to realize that you are lost. For the longest time, you can convince yourself that you've just wandered off the path, that you'll find your way back to the trailhead any moment now....
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Elizabeth Gilbert
More Quotes By Rachel Thompson
Silence is one of worst, most vocal enemies, yet people go through many bouts of depression not sharing what is happening. People don’t understand that, but as someone who suffers from it, I can tell you that it’s difficult to be objective about the gray....
I gave my heart to a man who loved me, who wanted to be with me. Who ultimately was afraid of all I offered. I didn’t understand why he sabotaged our future at the time — cheating on me, again, as we were making final...
Writers are always alone, even in a room bursting with noises of the familiar.
In a surreal gift from the universe, time both stands still and flies past you in that singular moment when you find out someone you once loved is gone.
She wondered If I had woken up, would I have smelled his sadness, his desperation, and his detachment? His death, her breath. He told her once, she remembers, these two words have no other rhyme but each other. If she could go back, she thinks...
