Buffy Summers had suffered from depression off and on for years, ever since she'd been Called at fifteen to be the Slayer. The first time had been after she'd dealt with Lothos and run away for the first time. Going back home hadn't made it any easier, especially after she'd tried to tell her parents the truth about why she'd burned down the gym. To say they hadn't believed her was putting it mildly given they'd thought she was having a breakdown and put her in a hospital. Being forcibly medicated to treat her 'condition' really hadn't helped with the depression, her actual problem. Emotionally anyway. Eventually they'd deemed her well enough to go home. Only to find out her parents were divorcing and she and her mom, along with Dawn in the memories the monks had inserted in her mind, had moved to Sunnydale. Which had turned out to be the home of the Hellmouth and a vamp playground. Oh joy, more Slayer crap.
The second time she'd experienced depression had been after she'd briefly died when the Master fed on her and Xander had revived her. She remembered being so angry, but hadn't really been sure who she was angry at or what she was angry about. Treating Xander like a stripper pole to make Angel jealous had given her a vicious kind of satisfaction. After all, they were responsible for her being alive again. On the one hand, she was glad to be alive. On the other, her life was still all about vampires and near death experiences. But not the real thing, the thing that would finally end it.
The next time she'd experienced depression had happened when Giles had betrayed her for that Cruciementum crap, but him risking being fired and then actually being fired to help her survive had helped blunt that.
The next time had been when Angel broke up with her, for her own good he'd insisted, just as she'd been facing the biggest fight of her life against the Mayor. Nearly losing him to Faith's insanity, even if she had contributed to that insanity, hadn't helped and it had been yet another bad summer as a result.
She been okay for about a year and half and then her mother had gotten sick and died, made worse by discovering Dawn had been magically created and a Hell god of all things had wanted to bleed her just so she could go home. But she'd finally found what she'd been chasing for years, an end to the pain and she'd died. It was over, finished, she was at peace. Only to be yanked back into life against her will. By her friends or so it seemed and only that nightmare relationship with Spike and the mutual pain they'd inflicted on each other had seemed to help. In the end though, she'd realized that mutual pain was actually making things worse because she'd thought she deserved the pain. Deserved it because she'd been expelled from Heaven or so she thought.
And then came an even bigger fight, against a being that seemed unstoppable, a being that called itself the First Evil, capital letters and oh how proud she'd been when she'd figured out an oh so clever way to defeat it. Only to find out she'd given it exactly what it wanted and that she'd been giving it what it wanted for years.
Which lead to her fixing that mistake and the source of her current depression, which might be worse then any she'd experienced before, from angry denial to the suicidal to the destructive to herself and others. Because now she just felt empty and alone and completely cut off from everything and everyone. She didn't even know where she was or how to communicate. Her eyes saw only an endless, all encompassing field of white, no colors or shapes. Her ears still heard a roar, but it was muffled and distant.
People gave her food to eat, easy things she could hold and not make a mess, cups with straws so she could wash it down. They helped her shower and dress and eventually she was able to do both herself, but was always conscious of the fact that someone was nearby, in case she had a problem. She was never alone and nothing was ever left near her that she could use to hurt herself, which was probably a good thing given the state of her mind.
She had no idea if it was day or night, what day of the week it was or how long had passed. And then one day someone held her hand and put their own against it and made a shape with their hand. She had no idea what they were trying to do. Why were they making shapes against her hand?
And then she made a connection, the shape was a letter, the letter C. In an instant she understood, they were teaching her the alphabet, like she was five years old and for awhile the depression worsened. She wasn't five, damnit, she was over 22 years old! But then she'd realized, this was how she could find out the things she didn't currently know. Where were her friends? Where was Willow, Giles, Dawn? The Echo of Xander Harris was probably gone by now, but the others, Faith even? They were still out there, weren't they?
Buffy Summers had found a reason to hold on to life one more time, the need to know that the people who mattered to her, the people she mattered to, were still alive and well.