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“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.

Then night falls again and again, and you still have no idea where you are, and it’s time to admit that you have bewildered yourself so far off the path that you don’t even know from which direction the sun rises anymore.” 

― Elizabeth Gilbert

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“At heart, I have always been a coper, I’ve mostly been able to walk around with my wounds safely hidden, and I’ve always stored up my deep depressive episodes for the weeks off when there was time to have an abbreviated version of a complete breakdown.

But in the end, I’d be able to get up and on with it, could always do what little must be done to scratch by.”

 ― Elizabeth Wurtzel, Prozac Nation

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“It’s my experience that people are a lot more sympathetic if they can see you hurting, and for the millionth time in my life I wish for measles or smallpox or some other easily understood disease just to make it easier on me and also on them.” 

― Jennifer Niven, All the Bright Places

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“Perfume was first created to mask the stench of foul and offensive odors…Spices and bold flavorings were created to mask the taste of putrid and rotting meat…What then was music created for? Was it to drown out the voices of others, or the voices within ourselves? I think I know.” 

― Emilie Autumn, The Asylum for Wayward Victorian Girls

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“Because that’s the thing about depression. When I feel it deeply, I don’t want to let it go. It becomes a comfort. I want to cloak myself under its heavy weight and breathe it into my lungs.

I want to nurture it, grow it, cultivate it. It’s mine. I want to check out with it, drift asleep wrapped in its arms and not wake up for a long, long time.” 

― Stephanie Perkins, Lola and the Boy Next Door

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“I’ve got a bad case of the 3:00 am guilts – you know, when you lie in bed awake and replay all those things you didn’t do right? Because, as we all know, nothing solves insomnia like a nice warm glass of regret, depression and self-loathing.” 

― D.D. Barant, Dying Bites

“If I can’t feel, if I can’t move, if I can’t think, and I can’t care, then what conceivable point is there in living?” 

― Kay Redfield Jamison, An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness

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“I just want to sleep. A coma would be nice. Or amnesia. Anything, just to get rid of this, these thoughts, whispers in my mind. Did he rape my head, too?”

 ― Laurie Halse Anderson