Dear Depression

Dear Depression,

Do you not see me?  Standing here in front of you?  Naked.  Alone.  Tears staining my face.  But you don’t offer to wipe them away.  No, you like them there.  You enjoy it when I am like this.  When I am in a place where I cannot function.  You like it when I can’t breathe.  Can’t see.  Can’t live.  When I don’t want to move on.  Damn you.  Damn your power over me.

Old friend.  How can we still be friends when you treat me like this?  Have I not given you enough of my time?  You suck me dry every chance you get.  Damn you.  Damn your existence.  If you really hate me this much, why don’t you just leave me alone?  Why do you keep coming back to me?  Like an addict to their drug.  A dog to its vomit.

I’ve tried time and time again just to ignore you.  You have ruined my mind for months, even years at a time.  You have ruined my body, used me over and over again.  Damn you.  Damn your selfishness.  Let a woman move on with her life.  Let me raise my babies in peace, let me give them a happy childhood.  Memories of a kind loving mother.  Must you taint their memories as well?

Why do you want me for yourself?  Do you not know I have a husband?  One who loves me, one who is not ashamed of me, who never mocks me and shows me how filthy I really am.  Damn you.  Damn your adulterous ways.  You don’t just make me miserable, you touch those lives around me, those whom I love and want to protect.

My mind goes black and all I see is red.  The rage you dump in my soul is from another world.  You are like no other I have experienced.  You tempt me, you physically pull me into yourself.  I beg you to stop, and just when I think you have had enough with my pleas, you slam me down again and start over.  Damn you.  Damn your poison.

Damn you!  I damn you for my life you keep trying to steal.  It does not belong to you. Damn you!  Damn you for stealing moments that were near and dear to my heart.  Damn you for taking precious memories from me.

Damn you depression!  Damn you for not letting go.


A Survivor

One thought on “Dear Depression

  1. I feel the anger, the oppression, and the fight in this piece. ‘A dog to its vomit’ in particular got me. I’m so glad you’ve got support, spirit, and the gift of your words. I’m glad you’re A Survivor.

    Liked by 1 person

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