I’m sorry, but you’ll never ever never ever ever never never ever never understand depression until you’ve been there.
You can’t understand the weights in you stomach and the elephant on your chest.
You can’t comprehend the agony, disinterest, and lack of motivation you call “laziness”
you won’t get the feeling of your guts being ripped out of you abdomen when something you deem minimal occurs, when you’re there every “little” issue is the straw that broke the camels back.
And don’t even try to tell me you empathize with the feeling of starting at a bottle of pills in one hand and a razor in the other.
Until you’ve been there back the fuck off and don’t dare tell me to “get over it”