Dear Depression

Yesterday I was poking around the internet, searching for a writing prompt to jump-start my brain.  I found this prompt from Writer's Digest:

Write a formal complaint letter to your deepest, darkest fear.

I don't know what exactly my "deepest, darkest fear" is, but I do know one aspect of my life that I'd really like to fire -- depression.  Here's my letter of termination:

Dear Depression,

I am writing to inform you that your services are no longer required. Your client -- well, let's not put too fine a point on it, for I am your client, your victim, your parasitic host -- I am displeased with the functions you have performed in my brain and am duly letting you go. Please have my synapses cleared by the end of the day.

Day 26 / Feeling battered
There is, I must admit, much to commend you. I do admire your work ethic, your diligence. Day in and out, and through each hour of the night, I find you toiling away. This high standard of performance, this nearly unbeatable productivity, does indeed set you above the rest. However, the fact still remains that your productivity is the drain down which my life, my essence, and my most basic cares are washed away anew each morning. You steal my days. You steal my very soul. Thanks to you, I no longer know who I am. My breath is willowy and cold, and I have forgotten what I love or like.

As a result, please consider yourself severed from this affiliation, effective immediately. There will be no redeeming, no second chances, no severance fee. We are finished. Although your work is quality, your work is also insidious and unredeeming. Even evil, some might say. So I say and, as head of this operation by name if not in actuality, I refuse to employee so dark and convoluted a created as yourself.

In truth, when I can separate you and your foul works from my brain, from my being, I can sympathize. You are a pitiable thing. Mothered by disease, loved by none, sustained by any withering human that will tolerate you, you are a sad one. If I didn't know better -- and now, mark me, I do, too well I do -- I might feel tempted to rock you in my arms, to soothe you with my body's heat.

But we both know where that would lead and while you might enjoy it -- of course you would, sick beast of a thing, you love-drinker, you thief of originality, you murderer of expectation -- I certainly would not. Your methods, while effective, repulse me. In addition to bringing me to my knees metaphorically and physically, you have smeared my true name. Now, to those who even remember me, know me as Unreliable, as Lazy, as What's-Wrong-With-Her-Just-Shake-It-Off. As if your work itself was not enough, you must heap insult to my mental injury.

You are a tick. You are a snake. You are soft as velvet and cold as the grave. You are no longer needed. You are no longer wanted.

Forever farewell.

Your former host

Demotivator : Fired

If only it was that easy. 

I wish I had some inspirational way to end this -- well, this rather depressing post, but I don't.  All I know is that I have continue to trust God, take my meds, and keep pushing back.

Finding some good resources never hurts, either.  Check these out:

Do you (or does someone you know) suffer from depression?  How do you cope with day-to-day life as well as larger challenges?  In other words, what gets you up and going and sometimes even smiling?

(Let me just add that I am not going through some super dark depressive period right now.  I'm pretty okay!  The writing prompt just brought the topic to the front of my mind, which is not difficult because, though I am medicated, depression is a constant partner in my everyday comings and goings.)

Demotivation: Depression
Image source for both demotivator posters

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