This arc of Buffy is a fascinating metaphor for depression. To know what happiness is, and to lose it. To go on day after day, knowing what life could be. But it's not. It's something I struggle with every day.
Buffy Summers: I was happy... Wherever I was... I was happy... At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it. Time... didn't mean anything. Nothing had form. But I was still me, you know...? And I was warm. And I was loved. And I was finished. Complete... I-I don't understand theology or dimensions, any of it, really... But I think I was in heaven... And now I'm not. I was torn out of there. Pulled out... by my friends. Everything here is hard and bright and violent... Everything I feel, everything I touch... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that, knowing what I've lost...
Buffy Summers: I was happy... Wherever I was... I was happy... At peace. I knew that everyone I cared about was all right. I knew it. Time... didn't mean anything. Nothing had form. But I was still me, you know...? And I was warm. And I was loved. And I was finished. Complete... I-I don't understand theology or dimensions, any of it, really... But I think I was in heaven... And now I'm not. I was torn out of there. Pulled out... by my friends. Everything here is hard and bright and violent... Everything I feel, everything I touch... this is Hell. Just getting through the next moment, and the one after that, knowing what I've lost...