Dear depression,
I don't question you anymore, I don't question, why me? Why I am sad today? I don't question why you make me push everyone away, or how you came about finding me.
I now turn to you for comfort because you're all I know, you're the only thing that hasn't left me, hasn't let me down. You're always here to remind me that I'm alone, and not to trust. Like an old friend, I find comfort in your arms while I'm lying In bed at 2 in the afternoon, the time I tell everyone I am busy.
Your embrace smothers me so beautifully, you make me see the world in a different light, black and white is what I live in, I see the world for what it is. Hell.
Dear Depression,
Because of you I stopped looking for monsters and demons underneath my bed and Inside my closet, I now see them in mirrors and when I close my eyes, I hear them as they demand attention in the silence of my room, they are screaming, pleading to be heard, like lost souls in the firey depths of hell trying to escape from the devil. It's agonizing really but I find comfort and live In contentment as it all I've known for so long.
Dear depression,
I sometimes think I can be happy, that I am happy. But my happy is, stepping on the scale and seeing the number go down, my happy is looking in the mirror and thinking "Wow, you don't look fat today", my happy is lying in bed all day and managing to actually get an hour of sleep. My happy is feeling like I want to exist, that I do exist and not feeling like I want to disappear, but then I see people around me, with real smiles on their faces and laughs that aren't forced, and I question if I've ever really known happiness.
Dear depression,
You have made me an excellent actor, with a make up painted face, a fake smile and a forced laugh, I play the best charade of happy. as long as I hide my eyes and cover my scars, people are blind to my reality, although I think they still would be if they saw every flaw you've left with me, because they say ignorance is bliss, I say it's blindeness. And your blind to what you don't want to see, and no one wants to see the reality of a hollow body, it's like I'm already gone, brain dead but my heart still beats, waiting to pull the plug, waiting to pull me from my life line.
Dear depression,
You make me feel crazy, I'm at war with myself. a game of Russian roulette, and my head is the battlefield. A constant war is raging on, it's like I'm standing on the shore line get ****** in by the tide, drowning and sinking I struggle until I realize I never really learned how to swim, I always just stayed afloat.
Dear depression,
I now realize there's no winning this game of Russian roulette without killing myself, so In the end you will always be my bestfriend, because I don't know if it makes me strong or if it makes me weak, but I can't pull my plug, so I'll remain brain dead In the comfort of your smothering arms at 2 in the afternoon, the time when I tell everyone I'm busy.
By: Hannah Ostenber