An Open Letter To Anti-Depressants

You came into my life in 2004.

I was an anxious seventeen-year-old when they told me I needed you. They said you’d help me. I didn’t know any better, so I let you in.

I’ve been through so many versions of you over the years. Sometimes you were weak and I barely noticed you. Other times you were strong and hurt me when I tried to let you go. I didn’t realize that you leaving would make me feel so bad. I never thought it would be as painful as it was. I didn’t know how much of you had become a part of me. I didn’t want to admit it, but I was addicted. I needed you. Every single day.

Our time together has been a jumbled, chaotic mess. Highs and lows, of course, but there’s more to it than that. At one point, you prevented me from feeling anything. I was numb. A few years later, it was like you were electrocuting me. I couldn’t focus. It was like you had poisoned me. I tried to break you down. Only take you in pieces. And then there was the time you made me want to die. Made me swallow eight pills instead of one. They blamed it on alcohol, but I knew it was you. I know you didn’t do it on purpose—you were trying to make things better, but I hated you for a long time after that. I never wanted to see you again, so I threw you out. And you were gone—for a while.

I’ve forgiven you now, though. I mean it. No matter what I say, please don’t leave me. I know it took me a while, but I want you around now. Sometimes I forget about you for day or two, but I never feel like myself on those days—or whoever it is that you’ve turned me into. When we first met I thought we’d only be together for a little while, a few months at most, but it’s been almost ten years. On and off, sure, but still, ten years.

I wish I didn’t need you. I wish I could be on my own, but I know this is how things are supposed to be right now. And I’m finally okay with that. I’m more comfortable with you than I’ve ever been before. We seem to be finally working together. You help me and I let you. I don’t resist you anymore. You’ve stopped with the highs and lows. I’m grateful for that. Everything seems to be in balance now.

So I guess maybe they were right. Maybe I did need you. Maybe I do need you. Maybe I can’t live without you.