My story in Depression Symptoms Decoded: I saw the black pickup round the curve in the distance. Its tires didn't squeal. The vehicle was traveling normally between the lines. It looked. well. it lookedsafe.<br/> My old dog, Bandit, walked over and sat in the ditch and waited for the truck to pass us. I got Bandit from the pound as a puppy and now he was ancient; a collie mix of some sort. He loved to walk with me. So it was just me and an old dog alone in the middle of nowhere Texas.There was never much traffic way out here anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. In fact, the black pickup was the first vehicle I've seen this morning. I smiled at my clever old dog because he was wise enough to sit and wait for vehicles to pass safely. I bent over to pat head. A shadow closed in on me. This vehicle was no longer on the road. It was down in ditch with me and my dog. I reflexively put up a hand. Too late. The black shadow devoured me, striking me fully in the right side of my face. On a breezy, clear Saturday morning on the back roads of Bastrop Texas, the truck left the road. The driver never hit the brakes. He never stopped even after he ran me over. He plowed the front of his late model, black Chevy truck into another human being. My blood splashed on the bridge sign twenty feet from where he hit me. My body was found in the middle of the road. The driver left me for dead. He remains unfound to this very day.