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An Open Letter to My Ex Best Friend, Who Suffered from Depression

This article is written by a student writer from the Her Campus at VCU chapter.

*The article was written by a member of the Her Campus VCU Staff. Names have been ommitted to protect the privacy of the individuals involved.*

 

We were best friends. We did everything together. It was beyond “OMG, let’s get our nails done together!” and beyond “what are you wearing to his party tonight?”It was “Call me at 4am, I will come over and we can cry it out.” It was “Please don’t drive drunk, sweetie. If anything ever happened to you, I would never forgive myself.” It was “you go, I go too.”It’s hard to find a friend who sees your makeup running and still finds you powerful and beautiful. I don’t mean the ‘just a few tears and a red nose” kind of crying. It was the ugly crying that led to an unforgiving, swollen face for days. You were there for me, for all of it. You didn’t judge me for making myself throw up or for wanting to fill the void with self-harm or drugs. You knew I was above all that, but still you didn’t judge me. You always had higher expectations of me, you would let me drink my sorrows away even when we both knew I was better and smarter than that. The reality is you were broken too. 

But one day, after all the parties, the boys and the self-hatred, I decided I was done. I wanted to be better, I wanted to be happy again. I wanted to get good grades, spend my weekends working on a hobby. Maybe I could get into knitting or get really good at painting. I used to dance in high school, maybe I could have picked that up again, too. Anything but the boring, messed up life I found myself in with you. You were holding me back.

I knew that you had troubles with your emotions. I knew sometimes life was too much for you and you couldn’t leave your house easily. I knew you had fits of crying and anxiety. I knew because I felt that way, too. The thing was, it wasn’t just a phase for you. You couldn’t just unzip your outer layer and step out of depression. I tried to help you, I thought I was doing my best. But what I failed to realize was you can’t always “fix” someone. That was a daily reality for you and I was your friend who you could sympathize with. I was struggling too, but I had the privilege of eventually finding inner-strength and happiness again.

I was tired of your unpredictable emotions; your anger, your sadness, your loneliness. I gave up on what I didn’t understand. I took it personally every time you lashed out at me, but it wasn’t either of our faults. You were angry. I felt like I was gasping for air around you, I needed to be better. I longed for friends who could push me to be better, ones to have simple conversations with, friends that could help me forget how much it hurt to be alive, not remind me of it all the time. I left you because I was afraid, I was selfish, I was confused, and desperately wanted a new life. One where somebody could one day take me seriously, where I would get a job in something that I was interested in. I wanted new friends who weren’t broken, I wanted to be away from you.

You were over protective, you were jealous, you didn’t want me to leave you. You couldn’t free yourself from all the confusion, anxiety, and sadness you were feeling. I didn’t know how to explain it. I spent months being beaten down by you, and you had spent years beating yourself down. I needed to be in a new world. I pictured a life without you, and it felt good, and I’m very sorry, I hope you’re well.

Her Campus VCU Staff Account
Keziah is a writer for Her Campus. She is majoring in Fashion Design with a minor in Fashion Merchandising. HCXO!