One that appears in hindsight: In her very first post, Allie complains about how her depressed neighbor keeps turning to her for solace. But she admits that she usually just acknowledges how bad he's feeling and doesn't try to "fix" it—which is exactly what she wanted people to do when she fell into depression.
"Isabelle", particularly the second-to-last paragraph.
You wouldn't expect it, but "An Open Letter to my Boyfriend, the Serial Killer" is a surprisingly sweet post.
Bonus points for not having too saccharine of a moral at the end, but a simple, no-nonsense (and darkly comedic) moral that anyone recovering from depression can relate to: Maybe everything isn't hopeless bullshit.
Anyway, I wanted to end this on a hopeful, positive note, but, seeing as how my sense of hope and positivity is still shrouded in a thick layer of feeling like hope and positivity are bullshit, I'll just say this: Nobody can guarantee that it's going to be okay, but — and I don't know if this will be comforting to anyone else — the possibility exists that there's a piece of corn on a floor somewhere that will make you just as confused about why you are laughing as you have ever been about why you are depressed. And even if everything still seems like hopeless bullshit, maybe it's just pointless bullshit or weird bullshit or possibly not even bullshit. I don't know. But when you're concerned that the miserable, boring wasteland in front of you might stretch all the way into forever, not knowing feels strangely hope-like.
"Menace" is a funny post, but the fact that it's her first non-depression blog post in over a year makes it this as well.