Numerous counselors have told me that writing is a good outlet of my emotions. This may be true but since many of my writings tend to be dark in my darkest times it is hard for me to find the courage to share them. In fact, I never share them. So here goes nothing.
My best friend is also my worst enemy. He is always with me, whether I want him or not. He is that little voice in my head that whispers “fatty” when I look in the mirror or says “you are annoying, they don’t want you around” when my friends are too busy.
Yes, sometimes I want him whether I like to admit it or not. He is my crutch. The perfect excuse to myself & the world when I am too lazy to get out of bed or be productive.
His name is Depression. I can’t remember when I first met him. He crept into my world as silently as he disappears on those rare good days. It was probably sometime in-between being molested by my brother and realizing that my family was different than other kids families that he appeared.
Or maybe is was when my ex boyfriend threw my laptop at my head. Oh! but what about that time he saw some other girl and said “why can’t you act like a girl and be pretty like her?”
Whenever Depression appeared doesn’t seem to matter anymore…..what matters is that he wouldn’t leave. No matter what I do, I can be having a wonderful day and suddenly one little note or picture or memory will bring it crashing down on top of me. And while I am sitting there bewildered about what happened, Depression whispers “See?! You aren’t good enough to have a normal life. You are an annoyance to everyone….Why don’t you die already?”
People think I can “Work through it.” “Tough it out.” “Remember, tomorrow is a better day.” Well guess what? I’ve been hearing that for about 15 years now and it still doesn’t work.
Well I have rambled on enough and I really don’t know where I’m going with this so that’s all for now.