Compared to America or Europe, God isn't a big part of our lives here. I don't know anyone here who goes to church when he's had a rough divorce or is going through depression. We go out into nature instead.
Getting better from depression demands a lifelong commitment. I've made that commitment for my life's sake and for the sake of those who love me.
Well, you know, there's depression and depression. What I mean by depression in my own case is that depression isn't just the blues. It's not just like I have a hangover in the weekend. . . the girl didn't show up or something like that. It isn't that. It's not really depression, it's a kind of mental violence which stops you from functioning properly from one moment to the next. You lose something somewhere and suddenly you're gripped by a kind of angst of the heart and of the spirit.
Instead of seeing depression as a dysfunction, it is a functioning phenomenon. It stops you cold, sets you down, makes you damn miserable.
If I had to define a major depression in a single sentence, I would describe it as a "geneticneurochemical disorder requiring a strong environmental trigger whose characteristic manifestation is an inability to appreciate sunsets.
I realized how for all of us who came of age in the late sixties and early seventies the war was a defining experience. You went o r you didn't, but the fact of it and the decisions it forced us to make marked us for the rest of our lives, just as the depression and World War II had marked my parents.
I'll never forget how the depression and loneliness felt good and bad at the same time. Still does.
If you want to understand geology, study earthquakes. If you want to understand the economy, study the Depression.
As for Gussie Finknottle, many an experienced undertaker would have been deceived by his appearance and started embalming on sight.
A melancholy-looking man, he had the appearance of one who has searched for the leak in life's gas-pipe with a lighted candle.
Depression, I've learned, is sometimes caused by anger that we keep locked up inside.
There are wounds that never show on the body that are deeper and more hurtful than anything that bleeds.
Onions make me sad. A lot of people don't realize that.
People that keep stiff upper lips find that it's hard to smile.
Depression - that limp word for the storm of black panic and half-demented malfunction - had over the years worked itself out in Charlotte's life in a curious pattern. Its onset was often imperceptible: like an assiduous housekeeper locking up a rambling mansion, it noiselessly went about and turned off, one by one, the mind's thousand small accesses to pleasure.
I found that dance was key to keeping depression out of my life. When you dance, things just go away, things don't seem so bad. There's no better way to take care of health than through something as joyous and beautiful as dance.
What happens to the wide-eyed observer when the window between reality and unreality breaks and the glass begins to fly?
I am very depressed and deeply disgusted with painting. It is really a continual torture.
Eating, drinking, and depression disorders are really thinking disorders.
My recovery from manic depression has been an evolution, not a sudden miracle.