living with depression is like being brain dead, and in a coma. except you can’t still see and understand everything, which makes it worse. really, you’re already dead, and your eventual death is inevitable. but everyone is trying to keep this shell of you alive for their own selfish reasons.
“The smell of her hair, the taste of her mouth, the feeling of her skin seemed to have got inside him, or into the air all around him. She had become a physical necessity.”—Georges Orwell, 1984 (via salacious-musings)