Depression

John Denver's song is playing softly. A woman is sitting and listening to the song.

Song playing: "Some days are diamonds, some days are stones;sometimes the hard times won't leave me alone; sometimes a cold wind blows a chill in my bones. Some days are diamonds, some days are stones."

Another woman enters and turns off the music. She stands near the table and starts collecting books and papers scattered on the table.

Shweta: We have all had those days that Denver's talking about, haven't we? Those depressive,  lousy, tear-jerking, lonely days....

Sneha :  Hmm. Yeah. I  knew Sylvia Plath had them. So did Mark Twain,  Stephen King , Ann Sexton and even J.K Rowling..

Shweta: hmmmm but Plath, Sexton... succumbed to depression...

Sneha: For authors, they say writing is a way of signaling others, letting people know if they are undergoing depression.

Woman 1:  How do you know?

Woman 2: I use to be depressed too. So I would write about things that bothered me. Wait.. let me find something that I wrote a few years ago... must be around somewhere here - ah.. here it is --  "“I’ve never once thought about how I was going to die, but I know several who are dead.  I don’t even know how I’m going to live."

Woman 1: Wow. What made you write that?

Woman 2: I was once a writer and my job depressed me. I had to stop writing.....

Woman 1: (interrupts) Why? What were you writing?

Woman 2: Obituaries