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To the Friends I've Lost Because of My Depression

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To the friends I’ve lost,

Depression sucks. To not have the strength to pick yourself up out of bed; to feel like everything you do requires 110 percent of energy you just don’t have; to at times feel incredible, excruciating pain and at others feel absolutely nothing at all; to want to die because you feel it would take more effort to live this worthless existence; to crave a feeling, any feeling, to the point where you would self harm just to bring yourself back down to reality; depression is exhausting. I didn’t ask for it, nor would I wish it upon my worst enemies.

I get that from an outsider’s perspective it’s hard to watch someone go through something you have no control over. The depression took a toll not just on me but on you as well. From the bottom of my heart, I am so sorry. But I don’t regret going through depression; on the contrary, it showed me who I am and who you are not.

You’re not the friends who stuck by my side through thick and thin. You’re not the friends who held my hand and told me you loved me as I was admitted several times to the psych ward for attempted suicide. You’re not the friends who texted, called and visited me to make sure I knew I had your support and that you were there for me no matter what. You are, however, the friends who told me you needed space because I was too much to handle. You’re the friends who, when the worst was yet to come, ran far away. You’re the friends who told me you couldn’t be friends with me because you can’t handle my sickness. You’re the friends who are no longer my friends. 

I should thank you, though. You saved me the effort and time I would have spent figuring this out for however long you would have stuck around had I not gone through depression. I know who my true friend are; I know I’m a hell of a lot stronger. I may only be able to count my friends on one hand, but I can also count on myself; I realized through my depression that I’m unbreakable. Try as you might, nothing can knock me down. Despite my worst days, when I thought it was all ending, I made it through. I’m proud to say I have a 100 percent completion rate of every day I’ve lived. My story is not over.

So thank you for not showing up. There wasn’t space for you anyways. I wish you the best.


Your former friend

The author standing in a garden with flowers.

Originally published: November 27, 2015
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