Depression never used to knock before coming in. Depression would just show up, uninvited, and stay as long as she pleased. She’d hang out with me wherever I was. She’s quite lazy though, and usually convinced me to stay in bed all day. We wouldn’t do anything! Even if we watched a movie, I could never pay attention because she was so distracting – always rambling to me, talking about god-knows-what. It’s really hard to focus on one thing when someone is talking in your ear about something else. Basically, whenever she came over, I was stuck doing whatever she wanted to do (and that doesn’t consist of much).

Sometimes, when I had friends over, she’d leave me alone for a bit. She’d hang back, I’d hang out, she’d wait for them to leave, and then she’d come out as soon as the door shut behind them. Usually, though, she’d demand all the attention: my friends would come over to hang out with me, but they’d end up hanging out with Depression. I’d kind of just be there in the background… somewhere.

One day, Depression and I were hanging out. She left soon after she came though – which was a very rare occurrence! – so I decided to go out. I ended up meeting Mania that night.

Mania and I instantly hit it off. We went out together with a group of my friends and had a fantastic night out. We spent a bit too much money and drank a bit more than we maybe should have, but I didn’t care! It was too fun to care. After that night, Mania and I hung out nonstop for about two weeks. We had become inseparable!

I guess Depression heard that Mania and I had been spending a lot of time together, and she wanted to be a part of it. But for some reason, our schedules never allowed for us to spend time as a trio. Depression kept asking me to hang out more and more frequently. Every time she’d heard that Mania had been over, she’d insist on coming by the next day. She was even more selfish during these visits, if that were even possible.

Everything had to revolve around her. If she didn’t feel like eating, we wouldn’t eat. Oh, but if she did want to eat, we’d eat an unnecessarily large amount of food. If she didn’t feel like talking, we’d sit in silence. But, of course, if she did want to talk, we’d talk nonstop about whatever she wanted to discuss. I say ‘discuss’, but really it was more of a lecture: I just listened to her talk; I never had a say in anything.

Eventually, I couldn’t even have friends over anymore while she was in town. She would literally take the phone out of my hand and write up some excuse. She even forbade me from going to work. She’d call in, pretend to be me, and say she was sick with the flu, or food poisoning, or whatever else came to mind.

I don’t know why I never stopped her. I just never really felt like I could. Peer pressure, maybe?

Anyway, I started to strongly resent Depression. Hate her, really. Looking back, I realize that Depression had sort of become a little jealous of Mania. But at the time, I just wanted to hang out with Mania and forget about Depression entirely.

Mania and I always had so much fun together. She managed to make me forget about Depression, even though we’d been so close for so long. I always thought Depression and I would be in each other’s lives forever, but Mania made me second-guess that notion. She pointed out how terrible Depression treated me. I honestly never realized it until then, but it was a very abusive relationship.

It was a good thing that Mania and Depression were never in the same room. I feel like Depression would have definitely taken away all the fun.

Those days, I hung out with Mania as much as I could. Depression would still come by every once in a while, but she didn’t stay as long as she used to. Mania was my new best friend.

The early days of my friendship with Mania were great! We would always be on the go, doing something, going somewhere. We would spend our free days making things, writing stories together or planning a trip. I would go to work and she would entertain herself – that was another thing I greatly appreciated, because Depression couldn’t handle me leaving her alone while I went to work. We went out on the weekends and the occasional – albeit rare – week night. We had a great social life and my friends absolutely loved her.

After a while though, she started to go a little wild. And, well, I saw how much fun she was having and couldn’t resist joining in.

We started to go out a lot. We spent money on things we didn’t need. We drank. We did drugs. We had a very unhealthy sleep schedule. We would go days without sleeping properly, and then crash for 20 or more consecutive hours. Usually, I’d wake up to an empty bed and the doorbell ringing: Mania was gone, and Depression was back.

It was exhausting, keeping up with those two! If I wasn’t with one, I was with the other. I had very few days to myself.

Depression came over after Mania and I had had another binge. I wanted her to go the second she walked in, but I didn’t want to be rude, and I had a hard time flat-out asking her to leave. After all, she did just want my company.

She eventually opened up and told me she was upset – she felt like Mania had taken over and that I didn’t like her anymore. She told me she missed me, and just wanted to spend more time with me. She asked me if we could just stay in bed all day and pretend to watch movies while she distracted me, like old times. The fact that this all made me feel guilty didn’t even matter: I was so exhausted after my binge with Mania that it actually sounded like a great idea.

So, we stayed in that bed for almost an entire week straight. We slept most of the time. We ate occasionally. We would start a movie and I’d turn it off after a few minutes of her rambling. I would wake up in the morning and see that she was still asleep, and I’d resolve to stay in bed so as not to leave her. It always upset her to wake up alone. Sleep, sleep, sleep, repeat.

After a couple of weeks, Depression left, and I was by myself for the first time in over a month. I was able to reflect on things, and I realized that maybe Depression wasn’t as evil as Mania made her out to be. She was just lonely. I felt bad for her more than I felt hurt by her.

Mania wasn’t perfect, anyway – was she? Sure, we had loads of fun together, but I always spent way too much money while she was around, and it took me days to recover from our sleepless, drug and alcohol induced binges.

It was hard to talk to my other friends about Depression and Mania though, because they didn’t know either of them like I did; they could never really understand our relationship.

Sure, Depression held me back sometimes, but she also held me closer than any other friend ever had. I could feel how much she wanted me around. No one can argue the fact that it feels nice to be wanted. And yes, Mania would encourage me to do things that might not have been the best idea, but in the moment, it was always so fun and exhilarating. We spent money I didn’t have, but we created amazing memories.

Mania was much better at winning me, as well as everyone else, over. She would show up, just like Depression always did, and instead of coming in to hang out, she’d insist we go out and do something.

She wasn’t always in her wild, party mode: sometimes she’d revert back to her original form, and we’d be incredibly productive. She’d come over and help me clean my house (this was especially nice when she came after Depression had been over, because there was always an accumulated mess), or we’d cook a delicious dinner, or we’d paint something or draw something or rearrange my apartment.

I started to resent Depression. Again. This time, more intensely. And it stuck.

She’d come over and my spirit would sink away to nothingness. I knew that the moment she walked in the door, there was no more fun to be had. So I got fed up. I told Depression that she couldn’t just keep coming over without at least telling me first. She needed to give me a warning before she came, so I could prepare. I could never get anything done while she was around. What if I needed to do laundry? What if I had someone visiting and actually wanted to spend some quality time with them? Reluctantly, she agreed that she’d let me know she was coming when possible, but couldn’t always be sure how long she’d stay. Fair enough, I thought.

As with many things, I was wrong.

These days, Depression sometimes lets me know she’s coming. I know she’ll be here in a few days. I can prepare myself as much as possible, but I can never really prepare. I don’t know how long she’s going to be here. I know I’m going to be stuck with her, and I know I can’t tell her to leave, but I don’t know when she’ll be gone. Trying to plan my life around her uncertainties is even worse than being utterly uninformed of her arrival.

Mania never tells me when she’s coming. I’ve asked her to, but she refuses. She says she wants it to be a surprise. I’d rather be surprised by Depression than by Mania. I want to know when Mania is coming because I want to be able to look forward to the fun. I want to be surprised by Depression because I want to be oblivious that I’ll be in pain until the pain has already begun.

Unfortunately though, that’s not how it is. Depression’s compromise was a warning. She won’t leave me alone, but she’ll let me know when she’s coming. Mania’s ‘compromise’ is surprise. She won’t leave me alone, she certainly won’t inform me of her plans, but we’ll have a blast when she gets here. I cannot rely on her.

This is how it is. These are my two friends, Depression and Mania, and they’re going to visit me until they tire of me. They’re going to stick around as long as they please, without my permission, my consent or even my affection. It’s not certain how often they’ll come, or how long they’ll stay. It’s not even certain that they’ll ever leave.

All that’s certain is me. I am certain that I cannot, and will not, ignore them. I am certain that I will accept them. But most of all: I am certain that they will be my friends, and not my keepers. I will run the show; they’ll just be my co-stars.