Perhaps, he thought, if I only think of this second, this moment, the train won't come at all. Think of the water, think of now. - William Styron

Oh, Daddy, I don’t know what’s wrong. I’ve tried to grow up — to be a good little girl, as you would say, but everywhere I turn I seem to walk deeper and deeper into some terrible despair. What’s wrong, Daddy? What’s wrong? Why is happiness such a precious thing? What have we done with our lives so that everywhere we turn — no matter how hard we try not to — we cause other people sorrow?

The pain of severe depression is quite unimaginable to those who have not suffered it, and it kills in many instances because its anguish can no longer be borne.

Depression is a disorder of mood, so mysteriously painful and elusive in the way it becomes known to the self — to the mediating intellect — as to verge close to being beyond description.