I have been extremely depressed lately. I’ll go to send a message, letter, or a phone call to a friend or family member to talk to them about this depression that has been haunting me for as long as I can remember, but I always end up hanging up, deleting the message or throwing away the letter. My dad died a few years ago. The information of his death was held from me for a few months, so I missed any service or visits to the hospital to say goodbye. My dad and I weren’t that close, but we had the same sick sense of humor and hatred towards the outside world. I learned to mask my depression with making others laugh from him, which is a curse and a blessing. I have been hiding from this extreme depression for a while. I’ll tell people that are depressed that things aren’t that bad, and I’ve been told that I’m an inspiration. Inside I know that everything is not alright, I’m still just a homeless, jobless, depressed, parasite on this world. I quit drinking for 2 1/2 years, I didn’t even drink with the news that my father passed. I didn’t drink when my ex stole 4500 dollars from my dad’s inheritance and left me homeless, took the cats, bought a new car, took all the laser discs, and broke my heart. I bought a ring for this woman, asked her family for their blessing and moved 2000 miles away from my friends. That woman broke me, but I didn’t drink. I felt that it was my duty to show others that you didn’t have to drink your depression away. Just take the hit with a smile and a step forward. As I write this I am drinking a forty, listening to ‘Father, Son’ by Peter Gabriel on repeat and thinking about where I should go next. I can sleep on couches for the rest of my life or just accept the fact that I am destined to be on the streets begging for change to buy a forty, some rollies, and maybe a bag of peanuts. I know this letter is all over the place and has no point, but it was therapeutic. Thank you to anyone who read.