Dear Depression

Dear Depression,

My faithful friend, well at least that’s what you told me.

It’s strange really because you never really gave me your name. I had to find it out from someone else and if I’m being honest, I didn’t believe them. I mean surely, I’d be the first to know the thing that had crawled inside and made itself home.

You made me isolate myself because you wanted me all to yourself. Eating away at me until I was hating myself. Hating the way I looked, hating the way I acted and hating the way I thought. And best of all, you made me believe it was just me. You never took responsibility, you even let me punish myself to the point where I thought there was no way out. I stopped eating, sleeping and leaving the house. I didn’t care anymore and it hurts to say that. But I was just numb from the pain you were causing.

Every time I drew a breath, you squeezed a little tighter. Crushing my body, forcing the air out of my lungs. I thought I was weak but I realise now that I’m just tired of carrying you around on my shoulders. There’s only so long you can tread water to stay afloat. Because that’s what it feels like, barely surviving.

You were never honest with me, you just hid behind my anxiety. To the point where I didn’t know what was you and what was me, what was real and what was imaginary.

All those long dark nights where there seemed to be no end in sight. The ones I cried until I had no more tears to shed. That ghost of a person I saw every day in the mirror. The one with the fractured smile. That wasn’t me, I see that now. That was just you wearing my skin.

You made me keep your dirty little secret because you told me that no one would accept, understand or even love me. But that’s not true and I know this now. You made me turn away from the people who cared, the people who could have helped. Something I will forever regret.

All this time I spent living under your shadow. Believing the lies that you feed to me. I know parts of your roots still infect my veins, at times I can feel you crawling under my skin, but I know your no faithful friend.  I hope one day I will be truly rid of you but until then I know with each battle I win, I grow stronger. And rest assured I will win.

Until next time
Your not so faithful friend

Depression is a cruel illness but it is an illness. You are not your mental illness, it’s just something that tries to control you.  You are stronger than it and one day we will defeat it.

Stay strong, you’re not alone

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