It is a depression of hopelessness, but not the hopelessness of wishing for something else, of wishing for something more. It is a hopelessness that’s far more sinister. It is the feeling that you did everything you were supposed to do and still find yourself empty and unfilled, a realization to the broken promises of the world. Society makes promises, unspoken contracts, particularly with women, for what it deems acceptable and appropriate, rules that restrict you to a rigid path of being: be a good girl, don’t make trouble, don’t get into trouble. Want what we tell you to want, get what we tell you to get, and you will be rewarded somehow. Society spends our whole girlhood telling us to keep our heads down, to be ambitious but temper it with poise; don’t intimidate, don’t dominate, don’t get agitated or annoyed or visibly upset. Want the husband and the child and the home (and it all) but for God’s sake never act like you want it.