I really don’t know how to start this letter to be honest. My minds is just about as blank as the word document that I’m typing on. I guess the easiest way to start off is by saying I’m Sorry. It may seem like nothing but those 7 letters pretty much encompass everything which I want to say.
I’m sorry for changing, I didn’t want to be like this… trust me I never did. I was confident, outgoing and most of all I was happy. It’s weird saying this but I really used to appreciate the little things in life.
Dear all , I say all because the more I think about the people who’ve done so much for me, I’m worried that in this moment of time I might miss someone out and I really don’t want to do that.
Sometimes things change. The world slowly becomes a darker place and we find ourselves slowly losing faith in the world. As time passes everything slowly becomes meaningless.
You slowly start losing interest in things. Something which you dreamt about doing in the past, like learning a new language or I don’t know a dance or whatever – becomes just as meaningless as my own existence. I used to love to learn. I loved to explore and most of all I was a dreamer. Don’t get me wrong I’m still a dreamer… ‘cept now all I’m looking for is an end to what my existence or my sickness… I’ll probably accept whatever happens first.
I’m sorry for not talking to you about this, for pushing you all way in my random bursts of anger. What scares me the most is those random bursts of anger. You’d think depression is permeated by sadness 24/7. Well you’re wrong. We feel angry; at the world and most of all at ourselves. I’ve lashed out at so many people with my uncontrolled words and my foolish –oh so foolish – rage. I’m sorry I never meant to… please believe me… It really was out of my control… Why do you think I began cutting all ties… I could never forgive myself for all the damage I wrought. I suppose the scars which line my body are my penance for all the misery I’ve caused.
I felt so numb; I lost all feeling in the world… My depression ruled me and consumed me to the point where I felt nothing. I began searching for temporary reprieves, for something which would make me feel again… Something which I know I shouldn’t have done, but I did nevertheless. Because I wanted to feel again.
I’m sorry for all the times I’ve hidden away how I really felt. Maybe things would’ve been different had I opened up to you…maybe it would’ve been different. I’m not sorry for my illness; It was out of my control.
You might’ve thought I’ve been ignoring you. I have been, I don’t want to lie to you when answering a question as simple as “How are you?” Lying to you.. a person who I care about, would only make me hate myself even more than I already do. And I guess it’s something I can’t afford to deal with, ‘cause I really do want to get better. I want to smile the same way I used to, to laugh without any reservation and most of all love myself the way I used to. I’ll get there soon enough, hopefully. I’m doing my best to recover, to kill this sickness which is leeching off my life force. I promise I’ll reply to you soon enough, just please give me some time.
I’m sorry for not opening up or writing this sooner… it’s hard. As you read this you would probably feel the same way I felt these last few years. I know what you’re thinking of right now, “Where did we go wrong”, “Why didn’t they talk to me”, “Maybe if I had taken a bit more time to ask how their day went, things might’ve been different”. All those “Ifs”, “Whys” and “Maybes”- don’t let them haunt you.
If it seems like I’m blaming you, don’t worry I don’t, I can’t. It’s the society we live in. We’ve grown up in a country where depression is a taboo. You might think I’m weak , In a way I suppose I am, but that’s because I’ve lost myself to an illness, the same weakness people feel when they suffer from a cold or stomach ache. Except we don’t recover as fast as others do. Sometimes it doesn’t go away, for some it’s like a cancer. There’s only one escape. You might not believe me when I say it’s an illness. But it is. I find it ironic that in a world where information is available to us in simply a click of a button, that we are still let ourselves be ruled by anarchic ideologies that will hold us back. We really are fools.
I’ve read there are at least 400,000 people in our country itself which are plagued by the same symptoms as me and I’m wondering do they feel the same as me, are they ostracized by everyone else as weak individuals who are undeserving of attention because we cannot deal with the harshness of reality.
If you want to step back and walk away, I’ll still love you all just the same for putting up with my tantrums for God Knows how long.
Friend, it gets better. As cliché as it sounds, every cloud has a silver lining. Change is frightening. The idea of slowly tearing down all those walls you’ve built its terrifying – but the thought of remaining a shell of your former self is just as destructive.
Somewhere in that body, that’s slowly self-destructing, is something amazing. Something stronger, something beautiful and something that is real.
If you ever felt like you won’t be missed and it’s better to just disappear, think again. You are the reason why someone laughs, the reason why someone fell asleep with a smile on their face. You made the world a lot brighter for someone else. If you died tomorrow many people would miss you and even though we haven’t met but I would miss you to.
Friend, it gets better. I’m recovering… it’s a slow process, I’m working on it . Right now I can proudly say that I can genuinely smile, that I can laugh without reservation. All because I’ve opened to people who mean the world to me. People who have helped me change for the better. People who helped me appreciate the beauty of life. People who never gave up on me.
Don’t worry Friend, it may seem like there’s no one who we can open up to, but that’s not the case, there are people who we can talk to. We’ve let our depression rule us to the point where we live in a false reality in which we believe there is no one. My Friend, Fight it.
Friend, depression changes people, we change for the best in the end, we are more open and receptive of others, more importantly we come out as better people once we begin to recover.
Take heart you are not alone, you will never be alone. You will fly again.
Someone who understands.
The author of this letter chose to remain anonymous, using an anonymous email to submit it.
Depression in Sri Lanka has a massive social taboo. Few ever speak out about their experiences. Few of us know that our friends suffered until they one day blurt it out years later. IntCa is proud to be providing a platform for such experiences to be shared with the world.
Dear Survivor thank you for your bravery via words. We hope you find the strength to one day tell it out to the world, without the veil of anonymity. You should be proud of your survival.