Wednesday, February 15, 2017

Letter to Depression

Hello, again.

I'm really tired of you showing up uninvited. I don't have room for you in my life, anymore, but you always seem to squeeze right on in, anyway. It's kind of frustrating, because I've worked so very hard, for so very long, to get you out of my life. I think I always knew you would be lurking nearby. And honestly, I'm okay with you living next door, but I wish you would stop coming into my house and making yourself at home. You really aren't allowed to live here --so why do you keep coming back?

I was doing pretty well. Motivation was high, energy was good, and I felt confident I could make it this time. I figured you would constantly call, maybe drag me back a couple of times --catching me in the street and yelling things to make me look back at you --but I didn't think I would let you grab onto me and waltz back in through my front door.

What bothers me the most, however, is how I let you drag me down. I listen to you, even when I know you lie. I let you distract me, even when I know you offer nothing valuable. I take your advice, even when I know it can't help me in any possible way.

If you were a real, tangible, physical entity, I would be able to mark you as an abuser. I could get a restraining order against you. I could cut ties and work through the aftermath carefully and thoroughly. I could find someone better and we could make a beautiful life together, with you a very distant and small memory. But you are neither physical nor tangible, and so I can't call a lawyer and sue you for damages. I can't convince a judge to throw you in jail. I can't even get you on a registry so others will be warned about the personal damage you have inflicted upon my psyche.

You attack my self-worth, how I take care of my physical body, my motivation, my energy, and all of my goals. You rant and rave that I am a disappointment to those who love me the most. You laugh at me when I try to push you aside and ignore all of your lies. You taunt, pull, squeeze, cajole, and finally, when I am spent, I just lie down next to you on the couch, and you wrap your arms around me. We both lie still. I find comfort in the apathy. You find joy in the control.

I've learned a lot from you. I can't deny that you have strengthened me. Every step I've taken to rid you from my life has made me better. Stronger, empathetic, courageous, faithful, even...

But I still hate you.
You are the part of me I wish I could remove.
You are like a cancer that won't let me go.

And I don't have time to let you hold onto me. I don't have time for you to be here! You are a time waster, a soul-sucker, a desire-killer, and motivation-remover. I don't have time for that! I have a life to live! Children to raise! A household to oversee! I have goals, plans, talents to use... I have causes to fight for and people to help. I don't have time for you!

I don't have time for the fight!
I don't want to fight.
I hate that I have to keep fighting.

Why can't you be the one to ever get exhausted by the fighting? The constant fighting. The battle. The duel. The war....

I'll let you have today, then. Just today. Maybe tomorrow as well, since you've already taken several weeks. But soon, very soon, I will post the eviction notice. I'll gather the weapons. And when you think you've got me pinned again, I'll unleash all that I have in my arsenal against you and push you out of my house and my life! Gone! Forever! Never to return!

Unless you just move next door, again.

I'm not stupid. I know you bought that house.


1 comment:

Mother of the Wild Boys said...

For almost a decade I have tried (mostly in vain) to express how your words speak to my very soul...I read your writing and I feel my soul come alive with recognition, it hums with validation. Thank you for speaking the words that my soul longs to hear. LOVE YOU. <3