With Love,

Dear Everybody,-

No. Scratch that.

To anyone who ever gave a single fork; Dad, Mom, Ty, Dakota.

Yes. No more, no less.

I'm sorry, but I'm done. Done being plagued with these memories. Memories of how society rejected me. They invade my mind like a virus. Constantly growing. And no antibiotic can heal it. The pain, that is. No matter how many depression pills I take, nothing ever changes. No drug can just make me forget. Trust me, I've tried them all and really it's a miracle that I haven't overdosed yet. Now I know there is only one cure; death. Finally putting everything to rest.

I know I have put you all through so much. I am the problem in this equation. An unsolvable problem. But if there's anything I have learned through life, it's that if you can't fix a problem; delete it. Erase it from existence. So that's what I'm doing. Ridding you all of the anomaly that I am.

Dad,

I'm sorry that I never made you proud. I never was that little "daddy's girl" that every father wishes for. Smart, pretty, and tough. That just isn't me. Wasn't me.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry I was the one nobody spoke to. I am- was- a freaking ghost. No one ever heard me. They would tell me to speak up, yet I was still unnoticed when I took their advice. So I gave up talking. I mean, why waste my breath on deaf ears? Many people have mistaken me for mute by this point. And soon I will be. By the time you read this I will be.

I was always picked last when partnered up. No, I wasn't even picked. I was just forced upon the unlucky kid who didn't have a choice in the end. I was a last resort.

And I'm sorry I was the one that had a lexile range lower than the deeps of the ocean floor. And that ocean has been determined to suffocate me for years now. But you never noticed. Not that I blame you. I mean, you did all you could. All a father could do. But the thing about oceans is that the water eventually rises, and I can only tread for so long. I am tired of treading.

Mom,

I'm sorry I was never that blonde haired, blue eyed, ogg loving Barbie doll you and society had always wanted.

I'm sorry I am just that one dumb brunette. Was. Was that one dumb brunette. With hazel eyes, piercings, and tattoos all over. The one who never wore dresses, for ripped jeans and dark hoodies worked best to hide the self affliction on almost every part of my body. And, yes, hoodies also because no matter how much makeup I wore, layers upon layers, I still felt that it couldn't perfectly camouflage the pain behind my eyes or the scars on my wrists.

And every time the saltwater of depression strokes my skin, it stings the unhealed wounds that I've tried so hard to bury deep within my mind.

Ty,

Honestly, I don't even remember meeting you, but I know that you are the greatest guy I have ever met. A godsend, some might say.

I recall going into that bar with what I thought was a friend, but sometime after I began blacking out, they must have ditched me. I have no idea what happened the rest of the night, but the next morning I woke up in my own bed. Alone and with my clothes still on. There was a sticky note attached to my headboard with only a name and a number, but that was enough. Despite my pounding headache, I didn't need more explanation than that to know that you were different. My fake I.D. may have gotten me into that bar, but you're the one who got me out.

You made me realize that I hadn't drifted too far from the shore yet. You were the rope attached to my life preserver, but months of wonderful dating, family issues on both sides and life itself has worn our rope thin.

I love you, but I don't want to be your burden any longer.

And Dakota,

To you I am most sorry.

Only you ever seemed to notice all of my battle scars. Even the mental ones. The ones fought between myself and Depression. I know you were pained when my wars became physical. It pains- no, pained- me too.

You reminded me that I wasn't alone for a while. Even from day one you were always at my side. My older sister constantly holding my hand. You were my life preserver, always keeping me aloft. But even those have holes.

And I finally fell through it. Now I can only drown in the bitter salt waters of depression. He won our battle. Depression. Now I am alone. Again. Alone again. Lost again. Tired again. Tired. Tired. Tired.

And I am beyond done with this pretense of a livable life.

I don't expect you to understand, but believe it or not I am ending this.

With love,

- Nevaeh

❅ : ❅ : ❅❅ : ❅ : ❅❅ : ❅ : ❅

Note From the Author:

"With Love," is dedicated to all of the veterans- those who fought long and hard against their own minds- who are now retired from their spars against Depression.

Never doubt that your mental health is a priority. If you saw yourself in any part of Nevaeh, please don't hesitate to seek help.

National Suicide Prevention Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 (available 24/7). Or by TTY at 1-800-799-4889 for the deaf and hard of hearing.

Stay safe, take care of yourself, and check in with your loved ones,

- Sea