I sighed again. I could feel it. This heaviness crushing me. I knew what it was. Depression. All I wanted to do was break down and cry. I wanted to cause myself pain for the pain I had caused others. I hated this feeling. But there it was. This weight pressing on my chest. I wanted to cry. I wanted to scream, I wanted to yell. I had barely trusted myself to sleep, and the few times I did, I woke up screaming, in a cold sweat, having relived the war.