Sadness is a virus for which all common remedies are poisonous.
Anger, self-pity, self-hatred, self-praise, seeking praise, obsession, and denial are all infected poultices, regally aligned in the cabinet, some of them with very official looking doctor's notes and prescriptions. To use them is slow suicide. It's better to sit the fever out, and shiver, and lose sleep.
"I am sad. This shall pass."
And then remember which streams you drank from to make you sick, and find different ones.