Dear Depression

[DISCLAIMER: This has been written as a reflection on personal experience with mental illness. It does not reflect all experiences of depression or anxiety. If you are looking for a depiction of depression that is more factual and raw please seek out Andrew Solomon's Ted Talk. While this has been written with a stylistic purpose, it is not an attempt at beautifying or glamorizing an illness that has effected many areas of my life, as well as the lives of many others. Please click away if you are likely to be triggered by pieces of writing that may mention depression or self harm.]

Dear Depression,

You crept into my life the way mould slowly collects in the once new corners of misty bathrooms. Covering shiny lacquered tiles with your dull film. Turning the lingering scent of sweet perfumes into a stench that is dark and damp.

You stole nights warm between flannelette sheets and gave me nightmares and long nights of clamped jaws and grinding teeth.

My body was pure, my veins clean, until you left marks like splintered glass and poured chemicals into my bloodstream. You made 60mg feel like a failure and 30mg feel like a sick victory. Did I win? No.

You’ve deprived my lips of food and made my eyes sting as though standing to close to a smoking fire.

You’ve hacked at my temper until it became so short a stump that I’d scream and push away the ones I love most.

You took my passions and interests and cast them aside like kitchen scraps to be thrown into a stagnant, rotting heap.

You’ve made my skin crawl and my mind drown. You’ve stolen nights, days, months, years… and yet, you have not stolen me.

You’d see me isolated, slowly decaying like a plant deprived of water; my stems becoming thin, my leaves turning brown and dry, and yet I bloom. In days of sun and small victories my flowers grow more vibrant. I step from the house with less fear, putting more distance between myself and the dark, mildewed corner of my mind that houses you.

You scream and scratch at my thoughts with desperation as you shrink, becoming lost in the ever-growing forest of my own determination and vitality.

You will remain, sitting to watch through my triumphs and pain. You will continue to break through, into a mind that is not yours to infect, but you will not wither my stems, you will not wither me.

 

While this piece of writing is quite new, it will most likely change as I reflect. Any suggestions and criticisms are welcomed.