Dear Depression…

Dear Depression,

Could you give me an estimated time/date when you might release me from this stranglehold? It has been months and months, medication after medication, and I am feeling drained and defeated. You have not let me up for more than a couple of gasps of air in weeks. What have I done to deserve this? You and I know each other well and you have rarely been this cruel before. What has changed?

I miss enjoying things. This dread that fills my bone marrow is not simply limited to icky hard parts of life. It is all encompassing, robbing me of even the things I find pleasurable. I’m tired of the fake smiles, the pretending to give a damn about social niceties, the constant battle to do the simplest things like bathe and get dressed. I’m tired of being a shambling zombie. It’s like being lost at sea on an inflatable raft. I can see nothing but water all around me. Day after day, I float but get nowhere. Yet I also don’t die. I exist in miserable perpetuity.

One of the hardest parts is watching those around me, my beloved brethren in the fight against mental demons, as they improve and they see the beauty and joy in life that I cannot. I have alienated so many by being depressed to an extent it becomes contagious to those around me. I try hard to keep my sarcastic biting humor, to mock my own darkness, to not let you consume every cell in my body. I TRY. Every day, trying gets harder and harder. I need results, no matter how minute. I need to know the effort is for something. Just a flicker, a tiny sign, the ability to feel true joy in that which normally nourishes my soul.

I am not your simpering slave, depression. You muck up everything, you make me exhausted, you sometimes make me want to cry. Don’t think for a moment that I am giving up or giving in. You don’t win, you won’t win. I will keep fighting you until I draw my last breath. I may not entirely succeed, just know I will fight you to the death. You will be medicated into submission even if I have to snort Comet and inject Windex. You think I am joking in my dramatics. It’s meant to make a point. You have taken so much, yet I do not concede defeat. I am not a delicate flower. I have survived this long with you devouring my will to live and I have survived because I am tougher, stronger, than you could ever be.

You may cause me to waver. I may feel weak, run down, and ready to give up. Your lies and distortions do their job well. You knock me down. I get back up. We do this dance daily, hourly. You stomp on my toes. You dip me, drop me on my back, I hit my head. I get back up. You may have me in a deathgrip right now, but I’m not even close to giving up my fight to beat you. If I can’t beat you, I will somehow manage to quash you down, tuck you into the closet of my mind and let you gather cobwebs. It may be brief and you will rear your ugly head again but…If we have to live together like this, there’s going to be some compromise.

Big talk from a depressed person, right? You do mock me and do it well. I just want a bit of joy back in my life. I don’t need to be happy fun ball. I don’t expect a rose garden. Life is hard. Bad things happen. Things go wrong. Some things should depress me. My desires are very basic, very humble. LET ME UP FOR SOME AIR. I’ve come to accept that you and I are a package deal. But ten months of depression is unreasonable. I’m willing to accept your inevitable appearance during the seasonal months. All I am asking is that you let me have back the three to four months of stability and joy I was once allowed.

In closing…I may be down, but I am not out. Some days the fight in me might taper off. I will be back to fight again. I remember joy and as long as I remember that it is possible…You will never win because I will never give up. Still…if you could see fit to respond to this current med regime, even if only briefly, well, that would make me happy fun ball for a brief time. That’s good enough for me. I’m not greedy. No, that would be you, so insistent on hanging around for so long without so much as a breather break. You’re not happy with messing up my life in brief jaunts. You’re greedy and you want the misery extended as long as possible.

I just want out of the darkness for a bit, so get with the program, would you?


Not your victim, just your host brain…


25 Responses to “Dear Depression…”

  1. So well written, summarized, I HATE IT! I HATE IT FOR YOU!! 😥 I ❤

  2. Bloody hell, ten months is a lot. What do the docs giving you the meds say? Are they meant to work like this?

    • Just Plain Ol' Vic Says:

      Billy is right, 10 months is a long time. You may need to have a talk with your psychiatrist and work on your prescription “cocktail.” It took my wife a bit of time to find the right mix of meds. Also don’t compare yourself to others, you are unique so heal at your own pace.

      • My doctor has been tweaking my meds for five months now, which makes it even more frustrating. I had awful reactions to Latuda and Trileptal, knocked me into suicidal territory which I had not been in prior to those meds. So it’s been fall down, get up, fall down, get up.
        I think at least from the standpoint of the Lamictal/Cymbalta combo at the moment, I’m not rapid cycling and at least I have more energy to do what i have to do.
        He said next appointment we’re gonna discuss adding another antidepressant as the seasonal affective will be kicking in and that can ward it off. He’s trying and I am trying. i’m just very med resistant when it comes to anti depressants.

    • i’m just very med resistant. Part of me wonders if it’s because I spent 14 years diagnosed “depressive” and they gave me nothing but anti depressants. Which for bipolar is a no no, made me go more manic, then crash harder into depression. Coulda messed with my wiring all those years.
      Doc is trying, I am trying, gotta find that right combo. Who knows, it may turn out the anhedonia is just my new perpetual state.

      • That makes sense, when I was on antidepressants I could feel the rage simmering just under the surface :/. So I guess maybe it might just take longer for your body to “flush out” the antidepressant function. The sarcasm/cynicism seems like a good alternative while you wait. x

      • Sarcasm has been my default setting since I was 13 and was getting mercilessly bullied at school. To use wit that goes over the heads of bullies was power I had and they didn’t. It stuck. Most of my sarcasm is meant to be humorous but unfortunately, sarcasm’s gotten a bad rap.

        On Sat, Aug 8, 2015 at 11:58 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • I read your post about it too. I spent my young life (and even not so young) WISHING DESPERATELY that I could retort or even just speak the way you do. You are right to not ever let them take that from you. x

      • ​I figure the bipolar and anxiety and associated failures may beat me down…But my spirit, defiant, rebellious, and resilient, is something I wanna fight to keep in tact. It takes strength to remain true to yourself so no matter my failures…If I remain sarcastic and willing to fight…The bipolar hasn’t conquered me yet.​

        On Tue, Aug 11, 2015 at 10:47 PM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


      • Can I be honest with you? Lately I’ve been thinking (well, some of the time anyway) that as long as you are still alive and (sometimes almost literally) kicking, you are winning, every time. They aren’t failures, you won yesterday, and again today. Be proud. It’s a fucking big battle and fuck those who refuse to help.

      • ​I agree with this 100%. Right up til my disability income is cut off because I was spotted smiling once ten years ago..At which point I go bathit ‘cos that income has been the ONLY thing keeping me afloat while I battle the mental health demons. If they take that away..I am as good as dead because failing my kid is simply more than I can handle. Til then…Hell, yeah, I’m alive and kicking even if it’s with a listless fervor.

        On Wed, Aug 12, 2015 at 12:04 AM, Take a Ride on My Mood Swing wrote:


  3. I love you ❤ Very well written and honest. 10 months is too long and if you need too makes a list and take it to your next appt. It may help

  4. I am so sorry that you have been going through this for so long. I don’t know if I could fight it for as long as you have. Keep shambling and keep writing.


    And it turns out that Latuda isn’t even a particularly good antipsychotic. The only meta-analysis of its performance against cheaper generic competitor versions has it coming in 14 out of 15 drugs reviewed. An FDA reviewer initially recommended against its approval for sale, but was overridden by a committee vote and the intervention of the FDA Director.

    • Sounds about right. For every one person on the forums who thinks it’s a wonder drug, there are ten who had bad reactions like Sass and I did.
      Pharma would sell rat poison as a med if they could get away with it.

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