The way it works is this:
First you think, "Wow, am I unhappy!"
Then you think, "Suck it up, whiner. Everyone's unhappy some of the time."
Then you think, "But I'm unhappy most of the time."
Then you think, "Big fucking deal. Who do you think is happy most of the time?"
Then you think, "Right. So this is normal."
Then you think, "Normal for you."
Then you think, "If it's normal, why is it so painful?"
Then you think, "What makes you think you deserve to be pain-free?"
Then you think, "Right. So I just need to deal with it. Why does it make me so tired?"
Then you think, "Why should you have any energy?"
Then you think, "But I have so much to do, so many things to be responsible for."
Then you think, "So you think you're important and necessary? That without you, the sun stops revolving around the earth?"
Then you think, "But ... that's not right."
Then the color slowly drains out of everything
And the world isn't black & white, like 50's TV; it's a pervasive shade of grey
The color of desolation
The color of hopelessness
The color of no-more-caring
Like the whistle-sharp edge of a straight razor
The outline is clear, but the substance is blurry
Especially when you bring it down suddenly like that.
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