Depression... A haunting mental illness that drains the light and life out of the hostage. This illness can seem to become its own person at times and stalk you everywhere you go and attack at expected and unexpected times. So here is an open letter to depression, because it is NOT you... it does NOT define you... and the disorder needs to be addressed in itself.
Dear Depression,
I have grown very very tired of you but I'm sure you know this. Or maybe you don't because I don't speak about you. Only to my therapist and only to my closest friends and family members. I fear to talk about you because many people will not try to understand or they mistake you for sadness. Even you know you are not sadness... Sadness is temporary, sadness goes away. You have been following me for years, and you have gotten better and better at interrupting my life.
The way you hang on my shoulders exhausts me to a complete low. Isn't it odd that you have the ability to exhaust me to a point of not being able to sleep? I still don't understand how that could be. It makes sense, however, that you whisper mean things at night when I am trying to fall asleep. Or when you suddenly feel the need to remind me of my past and my mistakes. You need my full attention to continue your attack on my thoughts. Some days I wish I could sleep all day just to escape your mind control.
I wish I could fight you off on my own and terminate you. I wish my psychiatrist didn't feel the need to prescribe me with drugs to help me maintain my energy to fight you. But I am thankful that I finally have a shield to push you with. Though it is not the strongest weapon I have, it has helped me feel more alive. And it has given me the energy to wake up when I wanted to stay in bed.
I also hate the way you latch on to difficult situations and not only blow them completely out of proportion but also whisper how impossible it is to solve them. The hopelessness and pessimistic attitude don't ever seem to disappear. Right now I can only subside them temporarily. However, when the currents build up again and they crash against me, it always feels like a fatal tsunami that is hitting for the first time.
Most of all, I wish you wouldn't keep me from experiencing potentially wonderful moments and opportunities. Everything new terrifies me. You tell me that the unexpected could be good but also devastatingly worse than before. For that reason, I feel caged in most of the time. I just wish I knew where you hid the key.
Sincerely,
My tired soul
There are probably countless reasons for the disclosure of this letter. The most important thing is I know this mental disorder thrives on many others as well. You are not alone, you are strong and you are beautiful.
