Bobby gathered every bit of strength he had left-almost none-to get out of bed and go to work. Forty-five years ago, the slow, steady advance of depression had begun, and now it had exploded. The hope he had somehow managed to hold onto for so long had finally withered away. He could no longer see a path forward. All roads closed. Total darkness. Through sheer force of will, Bobby made it to the office, sat down at his desk and turned on the computer. Less than an hour later, emergency personnel carried him out of the office on a stretcher. He was 51 years old. Depression's triumphant day had finally arrived. The journey had just begun.