If it's one thing about depressed patients, you can always tell that they are. I mean, as long as you look hard enough.
And I'm not talking about the extra wide smiles they give to things that they probably didn't hear, or the way they hide their emotions by being all cheery and bubbly, but it's after.
Eventually, they burn out.
But even before that you'd noticed the overly wrinkled creaks near their eyes from forcing the smile a little to much, and the dry cough that's supposed to represent an enthused laugh. You'd notice how even when they're looking at you during a conversation, they're not looking at you, they're just gone.
"Ophelia, we're going in circles," I tell her, interrupting her little rant about how she's planting tomatoes and how well they're growing.
"You said you want
