Dear Depression,

I hate you more than words can describe. I hate you. I hate you so much. I. Hate. You.

I hate how I can have a good day and think that I’m better, and then the next day I can’t find the will to get out of bed. I hate you for making me think that I’m faking it, that I’m looking for attention, so that not even I can validate my own emotions. I hate you for taking away my hope. I hate you for taking away who I am, who I know I am, and making me fight to be the person behind the name that I am so proud of. I hate you for taking me away from my friends, for affecting how I live my life. I hate you for making me into a person that other people don’t understand, for making the confusion behind each persons eyes, for the sentence why can’t you just be normal. I hate you for taking away so much from me. I hate you because I know that even on the best day, especially on the best days, I know that my mother will never fully believe that I am depressed. I hate you because when I tell people about my mental health problem I never say I have depression, I say I take medication for depression because I believe it makes people more comfortable. Because it makes me more comfortable. Because that is the problem.

I hate you, because you make me hate me. Because I am not dealing with you temporarily, because you are not an outside entity that I can fight off and win. I am depressed. It is inside me and it will always be inside me. It is me. I will always have bad days and I have a long lifetime of bad days ahead of me. When I say I hate you, what I’m really saying is that I hate me.

I will never be happy that you are here. I will never pretend you are a gift to be cherished. I will never forget that you are a puzzle piece inside me, something that makes me whole. But I will not live my life hating myself.

I am done with my obsession with the way you consume me. I am done spending so much time being disgusted with myself. I am done pretending that I can separate you and me, that we are somehow different because I give you a fancy name and put a fancy mask on you.

I don’t know if I can ever love you, but I do know that I am done hating you, that I am done hating me. And for the rest, time is the only thing that can tell.

Love Always,

              H

Dear H,

I am proud of you. I am proud of who you are now, but more importantly I am proud of who you will be, who you are working to become. For all the dreams you have and things you want to pursue. I’m proud of you for smiling every day, I’m proud of you for learning from both your successes and your mistakes. I’m proud of you for seeking to understand. I’m proud of you for finally putting yourself out there and believing in yourself. Because maybe this will all crash and burn. Because maybe it’s easier to live a life thinking that you could make a change if you had only tried, instead of knowing that you tried and still failing. But for once that doesn’t matter, because I want to be happy, and I want to know that there is nothing left of me to give when I go. I want to help people, and love fearlessly, and learn with a passion, and I want to fall, and I want to fly. And so H, I want you to know that I am proud of you for this first step in what is hopefully a life long journey. No matter what happens, I believe in you.

Love Always,

H