to him // depression

032718 on depression and heartbreak and sorrow over a broken first love (this is long, dark, and deeply personal)

dear **him**,

  it's past 4 am and i'm sitting here thinking about you and dwelling in my hurt and sadness. **philip** has been talking to me for hours, giving me good motivational advice. but i'm not here writing to talk about him or anyone else-- but us.

  i'm sad. i'm sad about what happened to us. i still miss us, because when we were happy and together it was so amazing. 

  we had it so good but we also had it so bad sometimes. we fought so much, it makes me sad. we were so different and yet we we tried so hard for each other so i know the love was real. thank you for loving me the way you did and helping me grow. 

  i feel a hint of the depression that held me down for so long. it's like i had been drowning in this pool of darkness, but now i'm just standing at the edge, where it's shallow, letting the sadness ripple around my ankles. 

  the scary thing about this pool is that you take just a few steps in -- you can't see into it because it's so dark -- and then it's so unbelievably deep and difficult to get out of, like there's some savage whirlpool or black hole sucking you into the depths. even worse is that the people who really care will try to save you but if they step any further to get within reach of you, they'll slip into the cavity too. the only person that can save you is yourself, and so many people aren't strong enough to swim out on their own. 

  for the sake of expanding this metaphor, i imagine medication to be like much like a flotation device that keeps you above the water until you have the strength to completely escape the vortex. a therapist is someone on dry land who is skilled at motivating you to even want to try to get out when you've lost all hope struggling on your own. or maybe you're just lonely in the pool, clinging onto life, and just having someone to talk to as you figure out how to escape is tremendously comforting and helpful. 

  anyways... i've mostly made it out of my pool. some people have larger or deeper pools of depression, but luckily mine wasn't too big. i think as you get stuck in your pool for so long, you become accustomed to that lowlife, attached, and forget what it's like to walk on dry land. it's scary remembering how to do something you haven't done in a long while when everyone else can do it just fine, so maybe you lose the desire to leave your deep, dark puddle. 

  but once you try to walk again, it will come naturally, and possibly more easily than you expected, especially when you have help from the people who have been watching over your progress out of the void. they really care, and you grow increasingly grateful for their existence in your life. when you were in that pool... you found it hard to really be glad for anything at all.

  and walking -- it's amazing. no longer stuck in one place with the same view, same perspective, same numb dull feeling every moment. no more back-and-forth debate with yourself on whether to give up or not because... you made it! you can see so much more again and can walk wherever you want, given you make the effort to go great distances if that's what you want. 

  the pool is always going to be there. it's possible to fall back in completely, or to just visit the feelings that linger in the shallows. like everything that's ever happened to you in your life, you can't get rid of it. i think it's best to acknowledge its existence rather than to pretend falling in never happened, out of respect for how you felt during that time but also to avoid somehow getting trapped again. the dangerous experience has made you a stronger and more capable person, don't forget. 

  right now, i'm standing ankle-deep, maybe sitting in the sandbank, with water lapping around my legs and hips. it feels comfortable because as much as i hated being prisoner to the pool, i grew used to it. the shadows, that dark and miserable abyss -- it was familiar to me. and as i stay here for a bit, i can remember how sad and listless i was. i still can feel that desire to die, let myself drown, when everything seemed too difficult. i remember how i felt when you left me because you were dangerously close to falling in too, but i depended on you so much. I felt so abandoned... 

...yet i let you go. i didn't beg you to stay this time because as much as i wanted to, i understood you needed to save yourself. and i had to learn how to save myself, too. 

  but i still hate you for leaving me. i hate you now not because you left, but because of what you did after you left me in there. i'm so unbelievably hurt by your thoughtless actions with my "friend" while i spent all that time finding my way out the pool to get back to you. you really were the carrot on a stick that i fought so hard to get at as i struggled in the pool. now i can see more clearly; you weren't and aren't perfect, and that's okay, because no one is. but i'm still wounded in the chest, aching on the inside whenever i see you on someone's snapchat or when i think of our beautiful memories together. 

  it is finally hitting me, how you disrespected me and really just didn't care, while you were doing what you were doing, about how i would feel if i ever were to find out, which i did, unfortunately for you. you lied to me about it too, which is terrible because now i don't really trust you.

  i hope (?) you can redeem yourself? i also sort of don't because i simply don't want you as much anymore. you've said that to me before... "i just don't really want you anymore." hurt like a b***h, but i get it. i managed to redeem myself, though, and made you want me again. maybe you, too, can impress me again but you have a lot of work to do and sadly, i'm finally finally finally giving up on you. this whole time i never gave up on us (our first break was a terrible mistake and i instantly regretted it, if you can recall), but now i'm finally letting us go, slowly.

  it hurts. i loved you deeply and thoroughly. i was not perfect -- in fact i was s****y for a while -- but i most certainly tried my best for you. i'm sorry we had to end. i'm sorry i ever hurt you, and i'm sorry for my depression, even though it was out of my control. i'm sorry i wasn't ready to marry you because you said you could marry me, and i wanted to give you a safety net for your future, too. i'm sorry for all the times I ever yelled/screamed at you, or hit you. that was really messed up and i vow to never do something like that again. i'm sorry i took away your freedom that you valued so much, and i'm sorry i ever cheated on you at the very start of our two years and three months together, because you never deserved that. you were a fantastic, funny, intelligent, loyal, dedicated, and caring boyfriend. my family loves you and you left a lasting mark on me, you special, lost boy of a man.

  but i still hate you. deep down i love you but  i can't think about that anymore. the hurt needs to go away and i need to move on. the necklace you gave me stays on because maybe until i'm really over you, i can't take it off. it comes with a sense of security that you always gave me. for two years or so, you kept me safe, so thank you.

  i was angry and bitter tonight, but after writing this i feel better. it's nearly 6:00 am now and i think i can sleep at last. still missing you. goodnight xx

Author's Note

it is a stylistic choice of mine to use all lowercase letters
this was written as a stream of consciousness, so i'm not too concerned with fragmented sentences or run-ons. just want to get my message across with fluid clarity