A letter to depression.

Dear depression,

It’s been a little while since you crept into my life and firmly forced yourself somewhere between my happiness and contentment. But, here you are again.

You hit me like a tonne of bricks a few weeks ago. Sudden, painful and all consuming. And you’re currently out staying your welcome.

I was doing pretty well. Really well, actually. Though that is usually when I least expect you.

Work was going great. Relationships with my partner, family and friends were too. I was really enjoying life, enjoying living and all it can offer. I’m an introvert at heart but family and friends give me a fundamental feeling of belonging to something that’s bigger than my safe, peaceful happy place.

You know all of this and yet you still show up, knowing you’re the only thing that can stop me in my tracks. And stop me, you did.

Maybe you knew I was looking after myself and that I had been for quite a while. Maybe you thought it was about time that you paid a visit or maybe there are no reasons and you’re just here, because.

I want to work. I want to see my family, my friends. I want to venture out in the world. I want to feel safe and happy. Or failing that, I just want to feel okay. You seem to have an issue with all of the above.

Before you showed up, I was avidly reading again, writing, socialising. But as you know, you can be a distracting presence. You seem to make concentrating impossible. Not only that, but you took my focus, my sleep and worst of all — my self esteem.

You seem to be leaving now and I can thank the universe for small mercies.

And so again, as before, I’ll push myself. I’ll see my doctor. I’ll take a little more medication. I’ll sign up for the counselling. I’ll will myself to see family and friends. I’ll read when I can, I’ll write when I’m able. I’ll force myself out into the scary world and I’ll defy you.

I’ll take the steps that I’ve taken before and I’ll take again because I know that the only way is forward. Staying still is not a long term option or solution, no matter how safe it feels. Staying still means staying with you.

So, you can do your worst. And the next time you decide to pay me a visit, whenever that might be, I’ll be a little bit stronger and maybe it won’t hurt as much. I know I’ll never be ready when you arrive. You’ll always be unpredictable, but I’ll be more prepared.

At least I can hope.

Regretfully Yours,

Your Unwilling Host.

If you liked this post, don’t forget to clap and follow. Feel free to comment below.

Follow me on FaceBook:

https://www.facebook.com/Basically-Blogging-1938918769767173/

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.