“My
sister was beautiful once. Not
a striking beauty; no one would mistake her for a model.
But she had that inner beauty, that glow, that something that every person tries to achieve.
It made her beautiful. When I look at her now, all I see are worry lines, dark cirlces, and stress.
The light is gone from her eyes, and I haven't seen her smile in years. She used to be beautiful.
But I guess depression is like an anti-makeup. It has stolen her light, her beauty. Now all she is,
is stress and worry and darkness.”
But she had that inner beauty, that glow, that something that every person tries to achieve.
It made her beautiful. When I look at her now, all I see are worry lines, dark cirlces, and stress.
The light is gone from her eyes, and I haven't seen her smile in years. She used to be beautiful.
But I guess depression is like an anti-makeup. It has stolen her light, her beauty. Now all she is,
is stress and worry and darkness.”
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