Aside from the depression itself, I learn that one of the hardest things is the loss that comes with it. My whole life, I’ve known that I am smart. I’ve known that I am capable. I’ve known that I will be very successful professionally.

And yet… I won’t be. Not in the way I thought, anyway. I have this enormous capability; I should be Head of HR somewhere. But I won’t be. I never will be. I have lost that; it’s never going to happen. It dawns on me that my capability exceeds my capacity. It is a feeling of grief, and I feel angry and resentful at this stupid bloody illness that restricts what I can achieve