Dear Depression…

Dear Depression,

You have been around so long now that I have almost grown comfortable with you – like an ugly scar that I’ve learned to live with.  I expect your games and tricks now, but I need you to know that I realize what a liar you are, and I hate you.

You lie when you tell me that I’m not good enough – tell me that I’m insignificant – not worthy of being loved.  That I don’t belong even when I’m surrounded by friends and family because how could they ever care for someone who is so horrible.

You lie when you tell me that I’m lazy and I have nothing to contribute to the world.  You say that I shouldn’t bother to get up and do all the things that should be done is because I’m just a slug sliming up the world wherever I go.

You lie when you whisper to me that I’d be better off dead.  That no one wants me because I’m a burden and I drag everyone else down with me.  You try your best to convince me that I’m useless and unimportant.

I hate the way you rob me of even the simplest of joys like a good morning cup of coffee or an unexpected hug from one of the kids.  These things seem hollow and empty when you decide to take over my mind.

I hate the way you make even the smallest task seem like a mountain that must be climbed.

I hate the way you can take away all my emotions leaving me the numb, detached shell of a person.

I hate the way you make the things I love doing the most seem so trivial and useless.

I hate the way you can make me sleep all the time in order to escape your cruel punishments. Or worse when you put thoughts in my head that rob me of sleep.  The thoughts that make me worry about days to come and regret the days that have passed. 

I hate the way you make my bones hurt and my muscles ache to the point that it is painful just to go get the mail or make dinner for my family.

I mostly hate that you are invisible.  No one can really see what you put me through, and because of that they can believe that you are a ghost – a made up thing in my head.  They can believe that you aren’t real.

I hate you because you take away my peace of mind to the point that I’m spinning in a sea of darkness that no one can save me from.

No one but me that is.

This is why I fight you.  I fight you every day.  I fight to keep my head clear of your lies.  I fight to get dressed and enjoy the sunlight.  I fight to smile when my husband tells me he loves me.  I fight to keep you as silent as I can.

Know this, depression, you vile creature, I will not give up!  I will not give in as long as I have breath in my body.  I know what days are like without you and I cling to the hope that I will have days like that again.  Even if you manage to warp me for a time, I will push you back and fight.  I will kick, scream, scratch and claw my way out of the black hole you love to trap me in.  In other words, depression, screw you!

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