Tag Archives: anxiety

An Open Letter to Depression

24 Oct

Dear Depression,

“Does it ever get any better?  Is this all there is?”

That is the slow mantra that ricochets around my head today.  I did some errands, I watched too much TV, ate too much junk food, and felt like I had wasted my day off, all with a growing sense of grief that this will be my life forever.  Errands, TV, bad choices, grief, on repeat.

The rain doesn’t help.  Usually I love the rain, the skies open up and come down like tears, but today it’s shit.  The sky is grey, all of the leaves on the trees (the ones that are left) are droopy and dripping with cold grey water.  It just reminds me that winter is soon to come, and that makes me cry.

It doesn’t matter what I did yesterday, what my plans for the day were, what my plans for tomorrow are because they tell you to live in the moment, and this moment is dreadful.  Everything I do today seems ten times more difficult than usual, and ten times more pointless.  Why the hell should I make the bed if I’m just going to get into it later on tonight?  Why do the dishes when I have ten other ones I can just pile on top?  Why should I tidy all of this clutter when I know I’m just going to put it right back?

This sounds like I’ve been defeated, or that I am going to let you win.  Even as I write it I know in my head that some of it is still fresh for me.  Today was not a good day in my ongoing battle with you, but it was a hell of a lot better than it has been in the past.  And do you know what, Depression?  You almost had me once.  Deep in my memory, a memory I clutch onto fiercely with both knuckle-white hands for fear of forgetting for a second what you can do, is a girl much worse off than I am.  A girl who has been dragged in the mud by her own mind, a constant cloud hovering sinisterly over her head.  A girl who sometimes didn’t want to go outside by herself.  The light hurt her eyes sometimes, she walked with her head down, loud noises like traffic or a crowd of people made her feel queasy.  And of course she thought that crowd was talking about her, her clothes, her makeup, her hair.

But you can’t hurt me like that anymore.  That girl eventually felt better every time.  Even though you always put up a good fight, left me for nothing, I have always managed to pick myself back up again.  This little “bout”?  Is fucking pathetic.  Do you know why?  Because I will always feel better.  Knowing that you will always be something I face is soothing to me.  Because when days like today come around, even though I feel like absolute shit, and that maybe the world means nothing, I know for a fact that this will pass.  That this is a symptom.  And that this doesn’t control me.

Depression, I take comfort in the notion that you think you have me where you want me.  And that you think I don’t have the power to fight back.  Well the gloves are off bitch, let’s do this…

Because suddenly, I have the urge to eat a healthy wrap and do my stupid dishes.

And I know just how much that will piss you off.