Depression is such a cruel punishment. There are no fevers, no rashes, no blood tests to send people scurrying in concern. Just the slow erosion of the self, as insidious as any cancer. And, like cancer, it is essentially a solitary experience. A room in hell with only your name on the door.
But then again how is one broken person supposed to fix another broken person?
― maybe that’s why we never worked out . (via shes-breakingdown)
Reblog this if you would talk to me day or night if it meant saving my life.