Dear Depression,

I thought that you’d moved away a bit ago. Gone off on your own to see the world and left me in your dust. I was okay with that. I certainly didn’t expect to see you back so soon. Although I guess it is my fault for welcoming you back with open arms.

Now that you’re back we need to catch up; when you left so did self harm. I shouldn’t have missed them, but I certainly did, but I’m sure they’ll eventual turn up now since you’ve returned. Our other mutual friend, self hatred never left. We’ve been inseparable for as long as I can remember and I doubt that’s ever going to change.
Overall nothing has really changed too much in the time you were gone. For a while I thought you’d never come back, that was short lived though. It seems that whenever others I love leave, you come back to me. I haven’t really been appreciating the lack of motivation you’ve given me upon your arrival. Bringing back suicidal thoughts with you wasn’t a good surprise, I wish you would’ve asked first.

I can’t blame you for any of this though, mostly I’m just glad you’re back. You’re the only one who’s always been there for me, no matter what. Even if you’re the reason most people get sick of me, I know you’ll always come back to me.

Depression, my dearest friend.

Welcome home.