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“In a strange way, I had fallen in love with my depression. I loved it because it was all I had. I thought depression was the part of my character that made me worthwhile. I thought so little of myself, felt that I had such scant offerings to give to the world, that the one thing that justified my existence at all was my pain.”
Elizabeth Wurtzel (via metropolitans)(Source: severes, via wildasher)
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