My worst bouts of depression manifest themselves in the unquenchable thirst for sleep. Even though the logical, educated part of my brain knows that what I'm feeling is depression, and it would be possible to fight through, the despair is so overwhelming and deep that I can't move. Sitting and staring is as far as I get, and the hopelessness consumes me. If I can't get away from it, I'm certain that this time, it will swallow me whole. So I sleep.
Today, I have slept.