TONY

MY DEPRESSION IS A MALE. HE IS A MALE AND I HATE HIM. IF I COULD NAME HIM HIS NAME WOULD BE A STUPID NAME, LIKE ANTHONY OR TONY. 

TONY FOLLOWS ME AROUND. HE LIKES TO SHOW UP AT THE MOST INCONVENIENT TIMES. I DON'T HAVE TO ASK WHY HE'S HERE OR WHAT HE WANTS, I AM FAMILIAR WITH HIS MOTIVES. 

MORE RECENTLY I AM SURPRISED WHEN TONY DECIDES TO COME OVER AND HANG OUT. LATELY HE'S FOLLOWED BY LONELY WHO IS TONYS PATHETIC AND ANNOYING SIDEKICK. 

I WONDER HOW THEY FIND ME WHEN I LEAVE MY USUAL HOME IN BROOKLYN. I WANT TO KNOW HOW LONG IT TOOK THEM TO TRAVEL TO WHERE I AM NOW. I ALWAYS ASK HOW THEY FOUND ME AND TONY ALWAYS REPLIES, "ARE YOU NOT HAPPY TO SEE US? WE ARE YOUR OLDEST FRIENDS, AFTER ALL."

TONY AND LONELY ARE BEST FRIENDS. THEY MAY EVEN BE LOVERS WALKING HAND IN HAND BEHIND ME. LONELY INTERROGATES ME LIKE MY MOTHER DOES, ASKING ME QUESTIONS THAT I DON'T HAVE THE ANSWERS TO. TONY STEALS MY SUNSHINE, MY LAUGHTER, MY PASSIONS, AND EVENTUALLY MY IDENTITY. HE CONVINCES MY FRIEND JOY TO PLAY LONG GAMES OF HIDE-AND-SEEK THAT I AM NOT INVITED TO.  

TONY LIKES TO POINT OUT WEAKNESS. HE ASKS WHY I'M ALONE - AGAIN - TONIGHT. HE ASKS ABOUT MY "FRIENDS" AND THE PEOPLE I LOVE. HE ASKS WHY I KEEP GOING BACK TO EMOTIONALLY ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIPS. HE ASKS WHY I CAN'T LAND A JOB. HE ASKS ABOUT THE DIRTY DISHES AND POINTS OUT THE LAUNDRY BAG. HE IS POLITE BUT EXHAUSTS ME WITH HIS QUESTIONS. 

I TRY TO WALK AWAY LIKE THERAPISTS TEACH YOU. TO LOOK IN THE OTHER DIRECTION AND TO WALK AWAY. THE PROBLEM WITH TONY IS THAT HE CAN SHIFT SHAPES. HE HAS A FIRM GRASP ON DOORS AND WINDOWS AND CAN BECOME A THIN SMOKE THAT SEEPS IN THROUGH CRACKS AND HOLES. I CAN FEEL HIM FORMING AND I STOP EATING BECAUSE I DON'T WANT HIM WATCHING ME. TONY IS A BULLY. THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NOTHING STOPPING HIM IF HE WANTS TO BE NEAR ME. WE ARE LIKE PAPER AND GLUE, FROM ONE TO TWO.  

MY BED IS HIS FAVORITE PLACE. HE LIKES TO SLIP IN BESIDE ME AND HOLD MY WAIST. HE KNOWS I DON'T LIKE TO SNUGGLE HIM BUT IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT I WANT. NO AMOUNT OF PROTEST CAN STOP MY TONY. 

WAKING UP WITH TONY IS THE WORST FEELING. HE IS A SMOG THAT LAYS THICK AND DENSE ACROSS THE ROOM, PUSHING ME DEEPER INTO MY BED - UNDER THE COVERS, AWAY FROM REALITY. 

I HIDE FROM TONY IN MY SMALL SHOWER. I STAND BENEATH THE STREAMING HEAT UNTIL MY ONCE PALE COMPLEXION IS BLOTCHY AND BURNT FROM THE WATER. LONLEY IS ALWAYS SILENT AND EERIE. HE SITS ON THE CLOSED TOILET SEAT AND SOMETIMES DRAWS FACES IN THE STEAMY MIRROR. 

I DREAD EACH COMING DAY AS I KNOW WE WILL BE SPENDING TIME TOGETHER WHILE I DESPERATELY SEARCH FOR JOY. I KNOW SHE IS AROUND HERE SOMEWHERE. I CAN SMELL HER IN THE KITCHEN WHEN MY MOM IS COOKING SPAGHETTI AND I CAN HEAR HER IN THE CAR WHEN THE BEACH BOYS ARE PLAYING.

TIME PASSES AND I AM SCARED. I KNOW THAT MY RELATIONSHIP WITH TONY IS A LIFELONG ONE.

I WILL BE FORCED INTO BED WITH TONY AGAIN TONIGHT.