Dear Depression,

You have been with me for so long I don’t even know what life would look like without you. The things I blame you for you make me blame myself for because you’re inside me like a parasite.

You made it hard to be accepted so I tried working with you. I tried to get „better“. I used you and the hate for myself you gave me to drive me toward success. You let me know the cold hard truth and got up again and again and again.

I did the cold showers, I did the meditation, I did the workouts, I did the diet, I did the social circle. I did everything people told me to do only to find that without the feelings you took from me it’s not worth anything. When I do, you make damn sure to make me remember I’d rather not. The feeling I have then is one of utter hopelessness and despair.

You make me think the world is a fucked place with most people not educated or smart enough to understand it. You make me disconnect from everyone, even myself. You force me to wear masks that hinder others from ever truly seeing me. You make me thing I don’t deserve their love and recognition because they don’t truly know me. Even if I did deserve it you say their opinions don’t matter because they won’t be there when shit gets dark. And it’s true, nobody can live life for me. Nobody can fight you for me, only I can but I don’t get taken seriously. The insurance, my parents, my friends. They don’t accept my word or my therapists word that I’m struggling.

Do I need to cut myself or try suicide before they truly believe me? Is this the burden of the fighter? I have been like this for years. I’ve gotten used to you. I went on, even with you inside me. I did whatever it took and however painful it was, I forced myself so hard I collapsed and then I got up again and again but that’s precisely why people think I can take a little bit more.

I hate you depression, I hate myself for not beating you and I hate people for saying it will get better. After years, when does it finally get better?