Soon

Soon, they say.

Soon, things will get better.

Soon, things will improve.

Soon, the medication will take effect.

Soon, the therapy will take effect.

Soon, positive coping mechanisms will replace the maladaptive ones.

Soon is not soon enough, in the same way that good will never be good enough.

I can’t be good, I need to be perfect. And I can’t have soon, I need now. 

I need to be thin now, better now, healthy now. I need meds to work now, scars to fade now, things to get easier now. I need to think clearly so I can get perfect grades, think clearly so I can get to a perfect weight, think clearly so I can be a perfect friend, sister, daughter, Christian, student, tutor and employee. Perfection cannot be achieved when depression is in the way. And the depression will lift, eventually – soon.

I want these thoughts gone. I want my emotions to be normal, instead of my mind reverting to dysregulation every time something goes wrong. More than that, I want my memories gone. I want the memories of anorexia gone, of the bullying gone, of emotional abuse, and neglect gone. Of starvation, of deprivation, of hospitalisation, of stigmatisation. Will the memories fade soon, as well?

When is soon?

And what if soon never comes?