Depression. Ugh. Even the sunniest of us can be ambushed by the chemicals of sadness. Without reason, without season, without warning, the dark tide rushes in and leaves a person clinging to -- or maybe just reclining listlessly on -- a seaweed-covered rock.
I don't know how to recover. I don't understand why it happens or why it goes away. All I can say is, hang on. The tide's going to change. Send up a flare and hang on.
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