Dear depressed me,
You are me. I, however, am not you. Not anymore (or at least not today).
I wish I could be the face you saw in the mirror, instead of that empty shell.
That look of pure nothingness; all excitement faded long ago. That blank stare. That twisted, screwed up face you make as you try to hold back your tears. You look at your reflection and you try to be strong. You stare into the mirror, hating what you see. And still, you try and tell yourself you can do it.
One more day. Push through one more day. Tomorrow might be the day things change.
But you’ve told yourself that same thing day after day, week after week, month after month, and it’s yet to prove true. You’ve yet to see me staring back at you.
I’m here. Somewhere. I am. And I’m telling you that one day I’ll be able to push back to the surface. That one day, I’ll teach you how to smile again, without dying inside as you do.
I know that right now you don’t remember me. You’ve heard of my existence, but you’re not convinced I’m real. You think you’ve always been a shell- you can’t remember being a warm and cozy home. You’re sure you’ve smiled before – there are pictures to confirm it. But you don’t think the smile was real – or at least you don’t see how it could be again.
You are me. Your thoughts are mine. My thoughts, however, are not yours. But one day, they can be; they will be.
You will look into the mirror and you will see somebody new. You will see a reflection of your strength, in place of yesterday’s empty eyes. You will see a smile staring back at you, just as you did before.
You will see me.
And then, you will remember that you are me – not the you you are today.