Dear Depression,
Do you remember when we used to be good friends? You told me you would never leave me. You'd whisper in my ear at night all these rotten things, and I believed them. When I woke up in the morning you would lay on top of me, giggling as if the exhaustion of shoving you off was a joke. You'd follow me around school, jumping onto my shoulders at the worst possible moments, and that laugh. You were always laughing. Always filling the silence with that damn laughter.
Do you know that I forgot? How to laugh, I mean. I didn't even realize it at the time. I didn't need to laugh with you around - yours was plenty for me. It wasn't until later that it hit me. I couldn't laugh. My chest would heave, my mouth would open, but no sound would come out. And you would giggle at me for trying, so I stopped.
You made me think you were my only friend back then. You were so clingy that it was hard to see anyone else around you. You demanded all my time, all my attention. You whined and complained constantly, and it took all my energy to appease you. When my other friends got too close you threw a tantrum. It left me exhausted for days afterwards, to the point where it wasn't even worth upsetting you.
And do you know that I thought that this was how life was supposed to be? For awhile I was convinced everyone had a secret friend like you, an invisible monster chained to their leg. I could almost hear the shackles clinking as I walked, you always attached to me, a friend by force and not by choice. I thought it was normal.
Living with you was like living in a private sort of hell. Perhaps, I blew it out of proportion in my preteen mind, where everything seemed to be life or death, but I knew that it hurt to wake up, and it hurt to walk around school, and it felt like I had cinder blocks anchored to my feet. To me, at that time, life was just hard. Life was exhausting. Life with you was not a life I even wanted to live.
I got lucky, though. I found people who were nothing like you - who were kind and considerate and made me feel like maybe I wasn't the horrible being you made me out to be. I started to doubt you. Oh, you tried so hard to hold onto me, whispering savage things into my dreams at night and handcuffing yourself to me some days - as if the fetters on my feet weren't enough.
But, some days, I forgot you were there. It never lasted long, granted, but for a moment I could look around the room and not see your ugly face three inches from mine. Everything in life got brighter, sunnier; the gloom you brought with you began, little by little, to dissolve.
Some days you clung to me, wrapped your body around mine until it was hard to breathe, and on those days, it was like nothing had changed. I would wake up with you on top of me, walk the halls with you on my shoulders, just like before. You were overbearing, overwhelming; you were consuming. But then someone would give me a hug. And for a moment, you couldn't touch me. Love pushed you aside, created a shield around me, and for just a second someone else was clinging to me besides you.
That's how I learned what life is supposed to feel like - through hugs, and smiles, and cuddling on the couch watching movies, and laughing again. When those things happened, you had no choice but to leave, and I realized how much I enjoyed not having you around.
We stopped being close friends after that. I would wake up some mornings and you wouldn't even be in the room with me; I'd walk down the halls with my chin up, smile on, and you were nowhere to be seen. Every day wasn't a good day, but most were. I didn't miss you. I thought your weight was comforting once, but that lie was cast off with the coming of true friends, who loved me no matter what.
I thought you'd win in the end because every morning, day after day, you told me you would. You'd whisper my shortcomings and disappointments and convince me, time and again, that you were right. And you'd laugh. Right in my face. Why wouldn't I believe you? You were a convincing liar.
But you were wrong. Did you know that all along, or did it surprise you, too? Because you didn't win. Sometimes I guess you have a victory here and there, but I won the war. Every day I got out of bed, I won. Every time I hugged a friend, I won. Every time I chose life over you, I won.
And every day I grow stronger. And with that strength I remember that at the end of the day, I am stronger than you. I always was. Even in the darkest days. I just couldn't see it.
So, Depression... you lost. And I'm not sorry about it. I wake up happy, and I experience life in a way I never could with you chained to me. So screw you and your lies.
Sincerely, Your Former Best Friend
To anyone out there who struggles with depression, please remember that you can beat it. Depression is real and horrible and completely debilitating, but you can get through it. There's hope. There's always hope.