In this room, colored by the subjective truths of others, a woman sits in hope (blue chair) of finding acceptance. She is aware of the vigilance of those around her and, in an attempt to meet their expectations, denies her intuition (missing left arm). Cut off from her intuitive self, and without its inspiration, she is unable to manifest her will (broken right arm on the game table). Where she once kept hope within her, there is only emptiness. The color in her lips shows she's still alive, but she's paralyzed. Perhaps the faded memory of her higher self can revive her.
This is what depression looks like and, though it's not caused by a conscious act of self denial, the experience of disconnectedness is similar. In the period of chemical imbalance, a victim's awareness of well-wishers can heighten self-contempt. The victim may feel an unspoken judgement that they are broken and ineffective, that they do not belong. Sometimes to survive such an isolating experience, one needs only the knowledge that when they come back out of that room, someone remembers them as they were, and hope can return with the daylight. That, and maybe some help with the laundry.