[ WP ] You 've been horribly depressed for as long as you can remember . Your life is falling apart . A week ago , an experimental treatment has been announced that lets depression sufferers face their sickness . You are among the few that have been selected for the first human trials .

I ca n't remember the last time I awoke happy. 
 
 Make the bed. Comb the hair. Eat some cereal. Out the door. Stand in line. Stamp some papers. Write light notes. Listen to meetings. Mail a package. Walk on home. Eat a little dinner. Sit in a chair and stare. 
 
 Then I awoke. Eyes snap open, gazing at the white ceiling above me. 
 
 I did n't know how to explain this to the doctor. His assistant had nodded sympathetically as I dully handed over the flier boldly asking for `` Men who feel like everyday should be the end.'' She smiled at me reassuringly as she ushered me into the room. Then I sat there twiddling my thumbs, uncertain how to voice the zombie that reigned inside of me. 
 
 The doctor tsked tsked under his breath as I stumbled through words, noting things here or there. I told him how everyday had no color. It was n't even interesting shades of black and white. It was just muddy brown with splotchy outlines. 
 
 The doctor scritch scritch scritched on his pad. 
 
 That was months ago. I must've passed their criteria, as they began weekly therapy, medications, and general psychotic evaluations. The doctor flicked through his notes. 
 
 `` So is the world still mud colored?'' 
 
 I nodded my head glumly. 
 
 `` Well, we can go ahead and start you on a new trial. It has been approved for human trial.'' 
 
 I glanced up, `` Please doctor. I wish I can say I am at my wit's end. But I ca n't feel a thing.'' 
 
 The doctor looked at me levelly. `` This is a trial. But I assure you, it will allow you to face your sickness head on. Get right to the root of the problem. We wo n't have to worry about you not feeling anything ever again.'' 
 
 He hesitated and then silently passed over a paper. He began telling me the procedure. Hand waving here. Pointing of diagrams there. The meds made my head fuzzy, but I vaguely nodded throughout. I scribbled a signature on a few papers, and then we waited. 
 
 A few more weeks passed. The door swung open. The doctor smiled gently upon me. 
 
 `` Now, son. Ready for that lobotomy?''
