‘So drugs, then, you’re saying you feel may be a factor,’ the doctor interrupted. The depressed young woman’s face emptied once more. She engaged briefly in something the staffers on Specials called the Thousand-Meter Stare. ‘Not “drugs,”’ she said slowly. The doctor smelled shame in the room, sour and uremic. Her face had become distantly pained now. The girl said: ‘Stopping.’

(INFJ: 76)

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