Dear depression,
About 1 in 4 college students struggle with depression, so I guess that’s why you stuck around for so long. College felt like home to you, most of us feel hopeless at one point or another, yet we don’t talk about it. I bet you felt like you fit right in. For the longest time I did everything you wanted. If you wanted me to stay in bed, I did, and if you wanted me to feel ugly, I did. I didn’t look at myself in the mirror because you convinced me that there was nothing to see.
I forgot what my face looked like without dark circles under my eyes, and I forgot what talking to people felt like. You told me who I was wasn’t good enough, so I forgot that too. You crept into my life claiming you were independence, but ended up being loneliness. You held my hand when things got bad, but you didn’t let go when it got better. And then, one day, I had had enough. I thought pills would make it seem as if you never existed, but instead it was me who had been left behind. I woke up because I had to, I went to class because I had to, and I took sleeping pills because I had to. You were so close behind me I was scared you would catch up. I stayed in my room so I wouldn’t hear people talk about you, and I ignored my friends because they reminded me of you.
It took me awhile to realize that the only thing that was keeping you there was fear. I was scared I would run back to you if anything bad happened. The thing is, I didn’t see my family and friends standing there between us. Until I did. So I let go of you and held onto them instead; I let them hug me, and love me, and tell me I was enough. It took months for me to believe them, but when I did, I pulled myself up and dusted myself off and I started walking away from you.
I can’t lie and say it was easy, because it wasn’t, it still isn’t. But I’m over you, like, really over you. And it’s kind of funny how you convinced me that asking for help would make me weak, but I’m actually a lot stronger now, and you can take no credit for it.
As I’m writing this I want to scream at you, because you told me that my life wasn’t worth living anymore, because you pushed me to the edge and it took all I had in me to keep myself from jumping. And I hate you for it. I hate you because after four years I still cry when I’m alone and because you almost convinced me that no one could see me. Most of all I hate you because you made me hate myself and forget the person I was, and now I’m still trying to find her, and hold her and tell her no one is going to hurt her anymore, that she can come out again.
And I love you, because nothing makes me happier than looking back at you and telling you that we are not the same person anymore. I can stand in front of you now and not want to be with you.
I want to tell you that I’m happy, and that things are going well for me. I want you to know that aside from what you may say, there are people who want to help me. And that you make me want to tell people that it’s going to be okay, because it is.
I hope I never see you again, but if I do, I’ll be alright. I promise you that.