An Open Letter To Depression

In this heartfelt open letter, I bravely confront my constant companion, depression, acknowledging its presence while expressing my determination to find light and hope amidst the darkness.

In honor of Mental Health Awareness Month, I’ve decided to write more personally about my struggles with anxiety and depression in my late teens and, more recently, as I was going through college. This open letter is based on my personal experiences and has no bearing on what others may experience. As you read this, please do not use it to invalidate or validate someone else’s mental health journey.

Dear My Not-So-Good Friend Depression, 

I’m not sure where you went or why you left, but you’ve left me long enough for me to sit down and write to you. I have the strangest feeling that you didn’t go too far. Every time I look over my shoulder, I feel like I can see you lurking around the corner. I wanted to write out how I honestly think I feel about you and your best friend, anxiety, who appears from nowhere daily. The worst part is that I know it misses you, fear. When you guys are together, nothing can stop you. You function well together to drain and exhaust my energy, spirit, and sanity, but I say, NO MORE!

I’m tired. I’m so tired of fighting, clawing, and escaping from you. I’m tired of feeling like I have something to prove, even though I know I don’t. I spend most of my day finding the strength and energy to complete the day without having a full-blown meltdown. If I had left the decision-making to you, I would’ve dropped out of college and drunk or smoked my life away. I would’ve chosen to give up on myself and everyone around me, and I would be eternally dead. 

Remember when you forced me to call out of work for a week because you made me believe that going to work was too complicated and that I had no business going? You said, “At least you won’t have to deal with difficult customers.” Little did you know what, I enjoyed my job and loved helping the customers—even the simplest tasks, such as making my bed feel like a drag when you’re around.  At least I learned how to manage high-functioning depression, even when you made it difficult.

What about when you made me late to my law class for a year because I spent nights crying about nothing?  But I look forward to these small moments because it gives me hope to cling on. Except, when you’re around, it’s more challenging to do so. 

I’ve spent most of my high school and college years denying, hiding, numbing, and filling my timeslot with work and fun things to do to distract myself from the inevitable. However, it’s hard to go about my daily routine without thinking or asking myself why this is happening to me. It’s still difficult to openly talk to my family, friends, boyfriend, or anyone about you. I know you hate it when I speak up against all the horrible things you did. Like a silent mouse, you prefer to hide in the darkness and be sneaky. 

That’s why you tried so hard to convince me that therapy and crying showed weakness. I remember the first time I heard the phrase Major Depression, which made me laugh. But, of course, I didn’t laugh because I thought it was funny. This laugh was more of an “AHA” moment for me. I knew all these problems were because of you, but I didn’t want to admit it. Since then, I’ve slowly learned how to deal with your unnecessary shenanigans. 

Although, I do wish you would take credit for some of the damage you’ve caused. Such as the friendships I’ve lost, the bad grades, my diminished lifeline, and things like that. I know I cannot put the complete blame on you because anxiety was there, but you were the most significant contributor to most of my problems. Depression, I’ve already accepted that you’re here to stay and this is just a short vacation, but would it kill you to give me a break too? I mean, why do I want to die every time you’re around? 

What’s up with that?

If I tried to kill you, I would die too. So, why do you always make that an option? What twisted game are you trying to play with my life? Whatever it is, I won’t ever let you win. Due to my new ability to wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, seek mental health help, and find a passion in life, you’ve given up on dragging me down 24/7. This has allowed me to put on a decent mask and show the world I am okay (at least, that is what I want them to think). 

I know I am stronger than you know, so I can make you go away for long periods. It feels like a 2000lb weight has lifted off my shoulders when you’re gone. It’s a fantastic feeling to have. Sometimes you come in the forms of perfectionism, self-doubt, and laziness, but it’s becoming much easier to deal with those traits too. 

I hope his letter has impacted you in some way. Do you think we can pretend to be okay? I’ve already accepted you for who you are, so will you give me that same courtesy? Please, depression, I am begging you. I’m not asking you for a lot. All I want to do is live my life to the fullest and die smiling. I want to have more days where I am not simply surviving but living. 

Please f**k off,

Seriah Sargenton