Letter for Depression

Dear Depression, I want to take this opportunity and thank you for being generous enough and giving me back my ability to write. I am aware that you understand that writing equates oxygen for me. I hope my words would convey my senses, I neither solicit mercy nor sympathy; my words are nothing but a reflection of the circus inside.

I like to picture you with awe, I don’t imagine you as a monster or a “black dog” as they describe you. On the contrary, I picture you as a beautiful entity that is overwhelmed with senses. I know your seasonal visit has no cruel intentions, I am aware that you carry nothing but scars of a conspicuous past. I am thankful that you are eager to remind me of my scars to learn and thrive.

However, while I always welcomed your visits through the darkest times and let you in with open arms – I just can not understand why would you visit me in the most beautiful period of my life?! For several years, I have adopted masks, masks that would protect me and walls that would secure my fragile being, only recently I have learned to stand with nothing but an armor of flesh.

I thought that my soul was murdered long ago, nevertheless, there was always an ounce of hope lingering between ashes and tears. One night, the light turned out to be real, HOPE was not a phantasm but a reality that worth every ache. I am no longer tinctured with the past or the present. 

And for that, I ask you why?

Why do you haunt me with equivocality?

Why do you hew my soul?

Why do you urge me to escape life? I respect and appreciate death but I refuse to bring it uninvited.

Why do you distort my self-image?

Why do you refuse to let me be?

I am not asking you to leave but I am asking you to intertwine with my reality and breathe in colors which portray who I really am. Your darkness is beautiful so, please join me.

Depression, here I am evincing my misfortunes and not blaming you, on the contrary, I kindly ask you to understand. For my life is not mine anymore and I refuse to abandon felicity out of fear. I refuse to hurt the one I Love, I refuse to give up and I refuse to be nothing but the strong person I am.

I am not a victim nor a quitter and I will not fight with you because you are part of me. My soul is made of melodies and silver linings – all the rest is noise.

Dear Depression, please be kind.

the-depression-of-man-rays-violin-900

Art by Domen Lo

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About The Holy Whore

I have no respect for the status quo. View all posts by The Holy Whore

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