To My Depression, the Unwanted Houseguest in My Soul

Hi there,

I would tell you, yet again, to leave me alone, but I know you won’t listen to me. You are a rude and intolerable houseguest, and I am doing everything in my power to remove you from my home, my heart and my life. I am pretty sure you are well aware of what you have taken away from me and why I want you to leave.

As a kid, you took away my “normal” childhood. Becoming my housemate when I was only 5 or 6, you began sucking the life out of my reality. I was already pretty well into the development of my autism, and I really didn’t need to also become depressed and angry. My parents could not get me to finish testing for my developmental delays. So I was never diagnosed. With my frustrations and confusions mounting up on me, it was so easy for you to find your way into me and into everything I did.

While I was maturing, so were you. I became more and more unstable, socially inept. Between a lack of productive therapy, serious developmental delays and you, I was helpless but to become an almost completely unmanageable child, an angry and out-of-control teen and a lost and confused adult.

I was 20 before I found someone I could trust, someone who had the answers I needed. By then, you and your bedmates had moved in and made your nest in my soul. I no longer remembered how it felt to not be completely locked inside myself. You made me feel heavy and sick. I felt totally useless and unwanted. Anxiety had moved in as well, and I was so scared of the world that I had trouble finding a therapist or any kind of help.

Then, this state took my one good thing, the one thing making me start to get well again, my newborn son. I lost it. You and your friends embraced me even more tightly than before. I became totally paranoid of anyone who asked me to sign a release to share information about me. I blew through therapists faster than ever before. I began to cut myself more regularly than ever before. I turned to drinking and smoking pot to numb everything I was going through. No matter how hard I tried to drown you, you wouldn’t shut up.

There seemed no way out of the black hole you and your friends created. I was too afraid of the world to seek help reliably, too depressed to handle most basic tasks and so lost in sensory overload that I collapsed within myself and became someone I couldn’t recognize as me.

Finally, I got help, real help. I was 23 years old. I had gotten divorced and had another child not living with me anymore. This time, my daughter was with her father. It was a kind heart that pushed me in the right direction. I fell in love and it was, and still is, amazing. I had someone driving hard on my behalf, advocating for me and helping me to get going again. He didn’t care that I was broken, only that I had the tools to get better.

After 10 years and two dozen therapists, I was getting good, healing help. I am getting stronger now, and most days, you do not sleep in my bed anymore. You still take a lot away from me, and your bedmates still get to me on occasion. Yet, I am in the process of making you leave me alone once and for all.

I am aware that this is a long and hard road, but it is my road. I will walk it.

Peace, love and bulletproof marshmallows

Mandey T.

For more, follow me on my blog The Little Tea Lady.

Also, checkout my pages on Facebook and Patreon.

If you or someone you know needs help, visit our suicide prevention resources page.

If you struggle with self-harm and you need support right now, call the crisis hotline at 1-800-273-8255 or text “START” to 741-741. For a list of ways to cope with self-harm urges, click here.

We want to hear your story. Become a Mighty contributor here.

Image via contributor.