Dear Depression,

I know we’ve been together for a very long time, longer than I can remember. It’s almost like we grew up together. I feel, however, that I’ve reached a point in my life where it’s time for me to move on and leave you behind. I’m a grown woman now. I’m out of high school, and I’m determined to be successful in whatever I do. I’m meeting new people in college and I can’t have you hanging around anymore. You’re in the past.

I know this may come as a shock to you, I guess for a while we were very close. It took a lot of time, but I realized that you’re bad for me. You hold me back from being the wonderful person I am; you hurt my body, you hurt my skin, and you scared people away. But, depression, I found out that I’m worth more than that, and you can’t trick me into thinking bad things again. I’m better than having to sit down and let you torture my thoughts and body.

Not only did you hurt me, depression, but you hurt my family and my friends. Every time you made me hurt myself, or made me skip a meal, you’d make mother hurt, and you know how much mother means to me. That’s not what friends do, and you’re not my friend.

Sometimes I thought you were protecting me from bad things, and that you were showing me the truth of the world. How the world is horrible, how I’m ugly, and how nobody loves me. I’m here to inform you that those things aren’t true. The world isn’t all horrible, I’m beautiful, and so many people love me. Now that I know, depression, what a lying thing you are, parting with you won’t grieve me at all!

Depression, I feel like I owe you an explanation for my change of heart. Everything was going so well for you, and now suddenly I’ve turned my back. I’ll tell you what happened. I was looking through old pictures of my family and I found a picture of this tiny little brunette blushing at the camera, c.1998. She was small, but her smile was so big that her cheeks round at the top like apples! Her blue eyes were squinting with joy, and she showed off her matching blue dress. That was me, depression, before we had met. I looked at that old picture of me and I cried. I hadn’t seen myself smile that wide for a while, and I couldn’t remember the last time I had been so proud of myself. You’re the one that hurt that little girl, depression. You gave her scars, and you took away her food, and you tried to break her spirit, but she’s fighting back now!

You probably never thought that such a tiny girl would fight back, but she has, and she’s going to win!

Never again yours,

Rebecca