It’s back.

Depression is hitting me again. I’ve fought it for the last 3 years but this time it’s relentless.

First it was nudging me • reminding me of the gloomy weather, how I don’t have a group of friends to call on when I need to, telling me that I won’t be able to fight this round. But I kept talking back, telling it to *F U C K O F F. Leave me alone, you’re wrong — the weather will change, I have a few close-ish friends, I’ve learned how to deal with things like you.* It’s formed a grey cloud around me, forever looming with everything I do… or don’t do. *There’s always tomorrow…*

I’ve fought with depression for years. 2017 it hit me from behind and brought me down hard; I was caught off guard. I went to therapy and I learned how to cope — it took forever but I came out swinging. I beat it. For the next few years whenever I felt it’s presence I was able to stand my ground. For the next few years I was “normal”.

But now…

It’s back. It’s moved from a nudge every so often to a sucker punch to the gut. As if I did something to deserve it. *Did I do something to deserve this?* NO. No, no no no. Anxiety is here too. She’s the worst. She’s like the popular girl who knows you’re pretty, but she’s insecure, so she tells you the worst things that you already think about yourself but straight to your face. She won’t shut up. *I don’t deserve this. Go away!!!*

My house is warm. My clothes are comfy. My blankets are a shelter. I’m here. I’m not leaving the house. Depression tells me to stay, anxiety reminds me there’s people outside who’ll judge me. *I know that already, stop.*

I don’t have anyone here to help me. I know they’re there… *but are they REALLY there? … YES, I have people who love me and want me to be okay.* I just don’t want to bother them. They have their own lives to deal with. I’ve already been down this road, how many times am I going to have to go through this? *WHY AM I ALWAYS THE ONE WHO HAS TO GO THROUGH THIS?!?!*

Depression, I hate you. YOU TOO, ANXIETY. I don’t want you in my life. You bring out the worst in me. YOU ARE THE WORST IN ME. I will not let you consume me. Not this time.

*But it’s so warm in this house… maybe tomorrow I’ll be productive, maybe tomorrow will be better.*

— Lizzie KJ