Things I wish I could say.

To my boss:   I'm so unhappy.  I was forced into this position and I hate it.  Every day I think about resigning, or about packing up all my things and not coming back.  I'm supposed to be a designer; instead I am managing a group of people who can't stand me.  I'm not a manager and never wanted to be.  I'm terrible at it.  I'm better at dealing with clients... I was so happy in my last position... why did you have to move me?
To my coworkers:  I know you don't give a shit about me.  Just stay out of my office and pretend I'm not here.  You'll get what you want soon enough.
To my husband:  You do so much for me.  If I didn't have you and our daughter, I wouldn't be alive right now.  I know you don't realize the extent of my depression.  You can't see how deep it runs, and really that's the problem with depression.  No one can tell how far the person afflicted as fallen, and the disease itself undermines any attempt by the ill person to speak out.  I feel like the part of my brain capable of making rational decisions is slowly withering and dying.  I literally cannot explain myself.  I'm trapped in this husk of a person and the disease is eating me alive.  No one can see it.
To my therapist:   You have tried really hard for me, and I appreciate that.  But I think even you don't understand how deep this runs.  You asked me last week if we should make a "safety plan."  What even is that?  Why should I care about it?  What I'm steadily learning is that people this far gone don't care what your safety plan is, they don't care about your weak excuses to get up and get out of bed for "just one more day," they just want the pain to be over.  I just want the pain to be over.
 
I don't have it in me for "one more day."
 
I don't even know if I have it in me for ten more minutes.