There she stood still despite the chaos despite the buzz despite noon time rush.
Placid alongside the humdrum the mundane the same thing over and again over and again.
Day in, out she seeks for reason some meaning some place someone something or other to faze her to move her to take her back to living and not just breathing.
She asks herself: What good is surviving the the struggle and pain if she spends her days for nothing but ceaselessly hoping for anything to happen or at least, to once again feel?
This is what I told her: Sometimes the way out to depression feels like becoming a whole new person but this phase will come and go and so embrace the process of healing take your time and believe in yourself and the waiting will soon be over and you will start over another day another chance so wade in this circumstance this inevitable consequence of losing yourself and then finding it again.