Away You Go!

A few weeks ago I was visited by somebody I don't like. I know very well that I don't like him because I've met him before - in fact, sometimes he's hung around for quite a while. But every time he comes calling I get better at seeing him off, and this time I thought I'd write him a letter. I decided to share the letter with you, in case he makes a nuisance of himself to you too.

Dear Mr Depression

When I call you 'dear' I don't mean that you're dear to me at all. You are only dear as in 'expensive', which you certainly are. You soak up energy like blotting paper. That's only one of the reasons why I'm not at home to you, Mr D, or, to use another of your names, Noxious Fogg.

I know you're there, I can smell your breath half a mile away. The doors are locked and barred against you, so you've ben lurking around looking for any open window or a a gap where a cold draught can creep in. You wait until I open the door to a friend so you can slip in with them and bring a foul damp draught, Noxious Fogg. But you've overplayed your scrubby grubby hand. We've had a few bouts, and I know your tactics.

You tell me lies about myself, about life, and about the world. You're clever enough to take a pinch of truth and stir it into your lie to make it convincing, and you lay a trail to send me down narrow alleys until I smack into a moudly grey wall. But not any more, because I can smell you coming and see the traps you set for me.

You wag your fingers at me and nag me for every decision I ever took and every mistake I ever made. Excuse me, but what is the point of that when all those decisions are in the past and we can't do a thing about them? And what a surprise! It's turned out pretty OK so far. So you listen to me for a change.

You want to move in with me again? Oh, but you wouldn't like it here. Don't you know that Somebody Good lives here? Lots of good people are in my life, they fill me up with love, and it grows like bindweed. This place is full of good stuff. You have no idea how much love there is here, and every time you go for me they gather round me and love comes rushing in. This too is real.

So let's say that you could be right, Mr Slimy Grimy Noxious Fogg. I may be a catastrophe who should never have been born. I may have messed up the lives of the people I love. But the funny thing is that they still love me, they make me laugh and bring out the best in me. Do what you like, there are roses in my garden, the sun rises, music sounds sweet and oranges taste of sunshine. Cats chase their tails. All this is real, and a sight more real than you, Mr Slimy Grimy Scrubby Grubby for-somebody-so-unimportant-you-don't-half-smell-bad Noxious Depression.

Oh, have you gone?