Dear depression,

I hate you. Every day I wake up and look next to me in bed to find you, though you're never invited. You took away my plans, you took away my emotions, you took away my passions. You cling to me still, draining me of my life slowly. Every day is a battle to stay afloat as you try and pull me in a little bit further under. Some days you are a fog that makes it hard for me to see or breathe, and some days you are just a distant storm cloud, but you are always there. You took years of my life. You took relationships, trust, money and opportunities. You took so much money. I never thought something invisible like you could take so much and give nothing but absolute despair. You pushed people away and left me alone with nothing but you. You told me I was worthless, I was nothing, I was a disappointment, I was a burden. Worst of all, you made me believe you. You are selfish. It's never enough. No matter how far I sank into you and relinquished my control to you, you were never complete. You will never be done with me until you have successfully stripped me of everything I am and left me a shell of my former self, and even then there will always be a tier lower that you will find and drag me to. I won't let that happen. I won't let you win this. I won't surrender to you, no matter how much you make the darkness seem like the only option. The safe option. After all the years with you, I should know that what seems easy with you is never good. I've hurt people I love, I've hurt myself, I've changed, and I've given up parts of my life for you. I can't do this anymore. For as long as I wake up next to you and carry you on my shoulders, I will be fighting you. I will live. I will feel. I will take risks, I will make mistakes. I will succeed. I will be alive.