Oh why hello, depression my old friend. I was wondering when you'd make another appearance.
Everytime I think I have you beat, you prove me wrong!
There's a scene in The Incredibles in which Violet, the diminishing, diminutive adolescent daughter complains of not being normal, not understanding it, and not wanting to be burdened by it. That's some relateable shit.
Can I go home now?
Update: Home now, face stuffed with chocolate, feeling better. Dreading tomorrow.