Dear Depression,

    it’s been a long time, hasn’t it? The past months of traveling and working have made me breathless. I’ve listened to new music, ate new foods, and 

read new books. Now I have new friends, new inside jokes- can you believe it all?

I’ve lived and I’ve learned, but I’ll never forget you.

Why? 

     I can never forget the days you seeped into my life, destroying who I was. I let you control my every movement, confirm my every fear. My body began to shut down, the words that you fed me being enough to fill my stomach. My skeleton was as frail and empty as my will, and ever just as scarce. 

    My parents and friends despaired, from the day I was found crying in a corner to the day I was admitted to the hospital. And you shut me off from them, convincing me that it was pity, not love, that they did it out of. 

    You persuaded me into believing that that world that I had put so much love and hope into was a failure. And I caved into your echoing whispers, all saying I was unloved. Unloved and alone. 

But times have changed. 

    I’m not the young girl you once knew. I’ve built myself up from the shell you left me. I began raising my voice, advocating for myself- because if I didn’t, who would? I reached out to new friends and mentors, none of whom I could’ve forseen myself with. I allowed myself to eat whatever I wanted, laugh whenever possible, and smile at the sincerity of it all. 

I never want to go back to who was was. And I don’t intend to. 

Sincerely, 

J.M.P.