When I received my acceptance letter to Lawrence Technological University, he got excited because he was going to be able to tag along. As I packed for college and folded my pile of clothes in the corner of my messy room, I did not know that he was hiding underneath the clutter. Life went too fast and I didn't have time to clean up and put him away. At first, he didn't take up much room.
In my college housing unit, he lived across the hall. I thought closing and locking my door each night, to keep me safe, but little did I know, he would find a way in.
He would knock on my door with a thud after thud after thud, giving me a dull headache, until one night I forgot to shut my door and he crept in. He soon became the monster under my bed that I read about in scary stories when I was younger.
He made his move when I slept. I thought hiding under the covers of my bed would keep him away, but little did I know he liked to cuddle. He was cold and drained everything from me. We spent numerous days and nights together - we became the best friends.
He brought out the worst in me. and I loved every bit of it. He followed me to class, he followed me to social events, and he controlled whom I hung out with. The relationship was so hurtful but I couldn't leave.
As I deteriorated, he grew. He pulled my down and held me in a dark place until I only found comfort when I was with him. When I listened to him, he made me do things that I would regret. He convinced me to harm myself and indirectly harm those around me. It was absolutely toxic.
I lost 20 pounds, but I gained 50, and he was heavy. I lost hours of sleep, for he kept me up all night long with his constant complaining and yearning for attention, and he wouldn't stop until I gave it to him. We spent about two years together. I couldn't break up with him but I had to leave. I had to escape.
My mind was so narrow - only seeing one thing in front of me and neglecting those rough yet life-saving edges. As I sat at the edge of the windowsill, my eyes pinpointed, the dark numbness taking over, I focused on the concrete bellow my dangling feet, and I was faced with a large decision......
Today he lives under my bed, locked in a heavy metal box with no key. I hope he never gets out. I will do everything in my power to make sure he remains there. Sometimes I remember him, and I reflect on how I never want a relationship like that ever again.
Depression makes the worst significant other - for he will never let you win. I still keep my door dead-bolted, and I shield my face with my sheets, out of the fear that he wants one more chance.
