An Open Letter To My Depression.

Dear Depression:
The time has come. Actually, it probably should have come a long, long time ago. Months, even. But maybe I wasn’t ready a few months ago. Maybe I hadn’t found the strength yet. Whatever the reason, I’ve realized something: You’re the problem. Not me. For so long, you’ve made me feel so small, as if I didn’t even matter. You’ve hurt me in ways I never thought possible. You’ve sucked a piece of my heart and my life out of me. You’ve made me feel like I can’t do anything. You’ve brought me to tears more times than I care to count.
And all the while, I just keep thinking…why? Because I let you. You’ve entered my life. I can’t change or control that. I know that. But what I can control is how I react to you. And I know I haven’t been reacting to you in the right way – the way that is going to help me see the light on the other side of the darkness you’ve cast over my life. You’ve been like an anchor around my neck, pulling me down farther and farther. Now, I won’t pretend that I have all my strength back because I still feel you with me (unfortunately…), but I can take some of the pressure of myself, can’t I? Like my mom says, I can tell myself that I am doing the best I can where I am at the moment. Maybe if I stop trying to be in control so much, if I stop trying to be everything and do everything and have everything all figured out, your grip on me won’t have such power over me. It’s something to think about, isn’t it?

[Photos via Audrey Hepburn Complex]