My mind doesn’t want to stop moving. It hurts me and it tells me to give up. I’m tired and I just want to lay down. I can’t stop these thoughts, these feelings are too much for my brain to handle. I’m overwhelmed with anger. I can’t control anything right now or ever. Life is funny like that; well not exactly funny, but challenging. Life is unrelenting and sometimes (a lot of the time) we don’t know why or when something is going to happen. We don’t know if something will change. And when it changes, will it change for the better or the worse. At the moment, my depression seems to be taking over and I want to tell it to stop. Depression, fuck off and leave me alone.

Depression is a bad listener, for the record. It taunts me, points its black crusty evil finger at me. It looks like a creepy monster with yellow eyes and a shadowy figure. Another thing about depression that drives me nuts is that it is a great runner. I don’t know if it’s training for couch to 5K, but I can’t catch that fucker. It runs after me, thinking we’re playing tag on the playground and I never asked to play anything with depression. In fact, I want it to sit in time out on the playground bench. And what the fuck is depression doing at the playground anyway? I didn’t invite it for a play date, I didn’t tell it to meet me on the swings or the slide. It obviously doesn’t have any friends. It’s a bully, that depression, and why don’t any of the teachers stop it? I don’t get that at all. Everyone at school can see what it’s doing, so why isn’t anyone telling on depression.

I KNOW WHY!

Because depression has scared everyone so much, that they don’t want to tell. It doesn’t look human, and all the children on the playground don’t want to say anything about it. Whenever I’ve tried to tell on depression, it just hides behind a tree and laughs at me. I tell an adult and they say they don’t see anything. It’s super frustrating because I know what I feel, I know what I see, and I certainly know a bully when I see one. When you’re fighting a monster that only you can see, it’s extremely exhausting. Another problem is that I don’t have a sword or anything. I wasn’t prepared to see this thing at school or the playground. So here it is, and now I’ve got zero defenses.

That’s not a fair fight, depression.

What are we going to do now’?

I’ll tell you what’s going to go down. We’re going to have a talk, depression. I know that you’re going to be lurking trying to play some clandestine game of hide and seek, but I’m not fucking playing with your ass anymore. We’re going to do this my way now. You can hang out behind a poll, and I’m going to go play hand games with my friend. I’m going to get a drink of water, and then fill my array of water balloons and have some fun.

Keep on trying to catch me, depression. I’ve been training for a marathon and I can take you.

-Sarah Fader, CEO, Stigma Fighters