“My mind's telling me to just keep drawing and doing whatever I can to get better… But my body can't handle it… Every time I go, I start shaking because I'm so scared of going to that class. I can't do what the others can do and I know I'm never going to receive [positive thing]. More than anything, I can't forgive myself for letting this all happen…”
Dear visceral depression and related adversarial phenomena:
You can make me cry involuntarily. (Empirically speaking.)
You can lock down my coarse motor controls for another two and a half hours because I'm not allowed to get out of bed yet. (I'll have to find a way to either undermine this or maybe set up my sleep cycle so you don't get the insomnia-synergy.)
You can't make me not a dragon.
I'll claw at you every time. May my beaks rend your causality to scraps and dust.
Screech-peckfully not-yours,
Metiagon Efydd, Premchaia Teneb Geminorum