A Letter to my Depression

 

Dear Depression,

I remember meeting you after that test in 5th grade

I got a 42%

You told me it didn’t matter

I tried to tell you it did, 

But you put your finger to my lips

And you embraced me 

And magically, 

I felt numb

 

I never really talked to you again until the end of 5th grade

It was when I first came out as transgender

You were the only person who was really there

I tried to tell you I was sad because no one accepted me

But you told me it didn’t matter.

I tried to tell you it did,

But you put your hands over my ears

You embraced me for a second time

And numbness returned.

 

I remember when I first got on a Zoom call for school

I talked to you between each missing assignment and news headline, 

You told me it didn’t matter

I didn’t respond; you were right.

You embraced me.

And that sweet numbness helped me cope.

 

I remember when I told a guy I liked him, the first, last and only time

He didn’t like me back.

You told me it didn’t matter

You embraced me.

And I couldn’t feel love anymore. 

 

I entered high school with you holding my hand.

You made getting lost in the crowd so easy.

I’d hide in the back of classes just to put my head on your shoulder

So that, without a teacher’s watchful eye, I could stop the loneliness

Every day, you shrunk the feelings I had of misery 

You made the world stop screaming for a while

But every day, my eyes lost color

And the world I came back to seemed dull

Love, the one thing I craved, felt so cold

Hate, the thing I hid from, felt so sharp.

If it didn’t matter, then why does it all hurt so much?

 

For too long, I was coddled in your ignorance

Swaddled in this suffocating blanket you called acceptance

Though life will remain overwhelming

It’s not better when I shut out the pain.

I had to pry my hand from yours to see that

The pain, however unbearable it seemed, held the map to healing.

And though it may be a road less traveled,

It is the path that matters the most.