“I'm depressed! I'm completely depressed! I am firmly convinced that there is no one in this world who really likes me!""So what else is new?”

“When I'm depressed I'll lie to myself to make me feel better. But really, it's ok, because depression only sometimes gets the best of me.”

“I'm so pissed off about it, because - I mean, I wasted so much of my life with him and then he cheats on me and I'm not even particularly, like, depressed about it?”

“I'm currently in the middle of a depression. I couldn't really tell you what set it off, but I think it stems from my cowardice, which confronts me at every turn.”

“Because I'm not, in fact, depressed, Prozac makes me manic and numb - one of the reasons I slice my arm in the first place is that I'm coked to the gills on something utterly wrong for what I have.”

“It gets harder as times go by, because memory is the first casualty of manic depression. When I'm manic, all I remember is the moment. When I'm depressed, all I remember is the pain. The surrounding details are lost to me.”