As one who has struggled with depression (see chapter 2, above), I resonate with MacIntyre. For me, the mire of depression resembled that phase of folk tales (like Snow White or Sleeping Beauty) when the protagonist is asleep, paralyzed under a spell. Ultimately, my depression was failure of belief, or failure of imagination. In my many struggles inside the dark cloud, one sign always foreshadowed eventual release: I got a tiny glimpse of a positive future for myself, a story with a role worth playing.
