This article is certainly something different from the content usually shared on Modern Mississauga, however, we feel it's important to share this honest, open and revealing letter on depression and anxiety.
It's written by a good friend of ours, Samara, who had the courage to write this and share a private aspect of her life with the world.
What you'll read below is her letter in it's entirety - unedited by us, titled "The Monster"
I hesitated to share this post, however, I am sharing it because I'm tired of depicting a perfect life. That is wrong. I have struggled with anxiety for most of my life and only recently, due to it becoming very strong, have reached out for help. I was so scared to admit I had a problem because I was ashamed that I wasn't this perfectly happy girl people thought I was. I was wrong. There is no perfection, there is only love. There is no shame for seeking help and having faults and insecurities, for these are your scars that make you beautiful. The following is a depiction of the anxiety I tried to push away. Please know that no matter what you are going trough you are NOT alone. Everyone has a demon. Reach out and talk, talk, talk. The demon CAN be beat.
If I could draw I would draw a picture of a girl sleeping peacefully in a patch of lush grass under the sun.
All of a sudden, the girl remembers something that makes her sad and afraid. At the same time, she feels a nudge under her back, coming from the ground. She stands up, digs a small hole and before her lays an egg. When she touches the egg memories rise like freshly printed photographs, along with more fear and pain. She wants to go back to her peaceful place so she pushes the egg back and covers the hole. She returns to her happy place.
Years later she lays, thinking about her happy life and all of a sudden she feels a nudge from beneath her. She feels a hole, gets up and what is there makes her body freeze. It’s the egg, but this time it’s cracked. The same feelings from her first encounter with the egg come back, this time slightly worse. She wraps the egg with the scarf from around her neck and pushes it further down into the hole, burying it real deep, feeling sure it won’t find her again. It’s impossible. She tells no one about this mysterious egg, “You’re crazy,” they’ll say.
Fast forward a few years, this girl is now a happy inspiration to all around her. She’s happy. She stops. She slows. She breathes. She goes back to her happy place and out of nowhere she feels a thumping.
She’s happy- how could this be? It’s buried deep this time...maybe it’s just indigestion.
She gets up and finds herself in the same hole- the egg is back, this time, there are claws out, ready to be let go. “I’m not ready for this, I can’t release this beast, they’ll put me away.” Despite the cuts and scrapes, she forces the monster back into the egg and pushes it further down, down, further than ever before. There’s no way it will ever come back now. It’s scared off for good. Phew.
She didn’t know until much later, but she was wrong.
There she was, laying with her amazing boyfriend, relishing in her great life when she felt a nudge. Forgetting about the egg, she got up, looked under her and screamed, for there before her was remnants of the egg and a beast trying to get out of the hole into which it was doomed many years before.
The monster is bigger and more powerful than she had ever imagined. She must face it because she obviously cannot fight it, not now, it’s grown too big. The problem is that the hole is so small and the creature has grown so big it can’t get out on its own. She has to let it out. She has to face the claws. She reaches into the black hole, she grabs the monster and pulls, small thorns all over its body cutting her hands each step of the way. Her memories and feelings of guilt, shame, insecurity- they rage. The longer she holds on the worse she feels but she knows this demon must be let free. It can’t keep haunting her.
She grabs the tail, the claws latch on, cutting deep into her skin. She screams, but keeps pulling. He HAS to go. The tail, in an attempt to fly, swings up and lashes her face, tears stream instantly, the salt burning her wounds. Her boyfriend, helpless, pats her back and asks if he can help but his voice is a mere dream; white noise like a loud fan in a hot airport. She has to get this monster out. After a long time of fighting the monster is free. The hole is filled with blood. She looks at her arms- full of thorns, gashes, bleeding everywhere. Her heart is beating, but she feels surprisingly light. She’s in physical pain but feels euphoric, relieved. Her boyfriend turns to her and says “I know about the monster, too.”
She smiles. She will heal.