My brother, who had been my best friend for the last 17 years, was hours away, dealing with school and his own friends, so I couldn't lean on him as much for support. For a long time, he was like the bouncer to Club Daniel's Mood Swings. People would come up to give me shit, and my brother would block the door and tell them that there was a cover, and when they asked how much that was, he'd tell them "Fuck off dollars and suck my nuts cents."
I also got turned down for the program that I wanted to get my major in. This basically put me in the position of looking for classes that sort of dealt with that major, in the hopes that the dean would see my effort and say "I know that we turned you down for the broadcasting program, but ever since then, you took a class in Performing 18th-Century Poetry On the Stage, so you can just graduate now if you want." I felt trapped by my own inadequacy. I was the RPG character that no one had bothered to level up, surrounded by the characters that God had been playing with for hours.
"Congrats, Daniel. You took Studies in Classic Horror Films. You win school."
When you're depressed, the silence is thick and omnipresent. You could buy a pair of rubber waders and fucking slog through the silence of depression. And it was on one of those very quiet nights that my roommate asked me if I'd ever watched a show called One Piece, which I knew two things about: 1) It was an anime, and 2) Yes please, anything that will distract me from this. Now, for those that have never heard of it, One Piece is a show about a dude who has the power to stretch his limbs, and he uses that power to better punch people. And I kind of fell in love with it immediately.