I was 5 when I first felt anxiety, I was 19 when I first felt depression, and I was 23 when I first felt suicidal.
I remember the little girl in 1st grade with anxiety, I remember the thought of going into school away from my parents and worrying about the possibility of chaos that could come: would they remember to pick me…
When he asks “Why do you feel that way, when did the sadness take over?”
How do you explain that it has not simply taken over, but rather that it has never left? How do you explain that it lingers just under the surface and covers everything you see with doubt?
How do you explain that it, similar to life, is eternal?