Dear major depression,
You, old chum, have simply got to go and let me live my life. We\'ve been together for so long. I didn\'t think I\'d outlast you and still be breathing.
What will it take to exorcise you from my mind, body, and spirit? A restraining order in soul\'s blood?
Your presence is etched in the folds and synapses of my brain, in the instinctive reactions of my body and the emotional isolation of my soul. I cannot heal and regenerate with you hanging a hairsbreath away.
I don\'t need you any more to buffer my soul from the world. I have boundaries now. They will suffice. I want to heal, not hide and feel, not die. I no longer crave the opiate of sleep.
Never yours again.