When I was most depressed in life was mid-late teens. It&#x27;s a rough time for everyone, really. The search for romantic love, or at least what you imagine it to be. All that. I had some really dark times, but fortunately I made it out.<p>It wasn&#x27;t very long before I began to see that the periods of depression -- even though they felt really real at the time -- just didn&#x27;t make sense. I&#x27;d keep a journal, and if I read it later (or, worse, tried to write the journal entry after the feeling had passed), none of it made sense. I mean, the words made sense, but the feelings didn&#x27;t.<p>I wonder if part of what got me out of it was just learning to manage those times. I knew I felt terrible, but I also knew it didn&#x27;t make sense, and that in 3 days I&#x27;d recognize how little sense it made. So I just had to ride it out.<p>Now in my mid 30s, I have some anxiety that nobody else can see, and it rarely troubles me. But it&#x27;s the same pattern-- when it bothers me, I feel completely overwhelmed by the silliest little thing (or collection of things). Not only burdens that others wouldn&#x27;t think twice about, but ones that I myself handle regularly without issue.<p>We&#x27;ve all got things we&#x27;re incapable of dealing with. Everyone&#x27;s limits are different. And I think, for everyone, they change all the time.