Open Letters: A Personal Statement

CW: Swearing

To no one in particular,

I don't know why anyone would like to read this. I mean, a story (or letter in this case) with no clear plot ain't that fun to read. You don't even know me. I'm just a random stranger on the internet. I don't know why I'm writing this. I guess just to vent or something like that, but I don't think anyone really wants to hear me yap about nonsense. [Sigh] Oh, well… if you're still reading, just, please, let me play my tiny violin to you.

Not so many months ago I used to be happy. I used to be full of life, my head filled with dreams and motivations to live life to the fullest. I was always so full of energy and hope. Yeah, those were the good old times, but now those times are gone. They're nothing more than a mere memory of better times, times in which life was a blessing, when waking up the next day was the best thing that could happen to you. But now it's not. Life feels like a painful nightmare you can't wake up from.

I don't know why exactly this started. One moment everything was fine, and the next my world was crumbling. I don't remember any traumatic or sad events happening to trigger this feeling. I mean, my life is what many would call a perfect, happy life. My family isn't poor nor do I live in a broken home, so why do I feel like this? Heck, my family is even supportive with me! Why would I ever feel depressed with such blessings?

“There's people who have it way worse than you and they don't get depressed, you know? So why are you depressed?”

“Count your blessings. God has given you too much for you to feel this way.”

“You gotta pray more. You gotta have stronger faith in God. That's why you're depressed.”

“Be thankful for what you have. How many people in the world wish they had what you have?”

“It's just a phase of your teenage years. Highs and lows are a normal part of life. Just enjoy life and be happy.”

"Depression is selfish. Suicide is selfish. Self-harm is selfish. Why don't you think about anyone but yourself? Don't you care about how others' feelings?"

"You don't seem depressed. You function just normal. Real depressed people don't even get out of bed! Practice gratitude."

"You'll go to hell if you end your life! You'll never be forgiven by God and you'll suffer through eternity!"

“Snap out of this nonsense! You choose how you feel, so don't let the feelings control you.”

Yeah… I've heard all that bullshit before... but maybe it's not bullshit (especially the hell one) and I'm just a nasty piece of useless shit who can't do anything right.

I hate myself for not being able to snap out of this feeling like I've been told before. Why can't I just stop feeling hopeless, weary, sad, numb, guilty, ashamed, and irritable? Why can't I concentrate on "easy" school work? Why does it take me six fucking hours to complete a freaking assignment on reading five pages and taking few notes? I shouldn't be that difficult and yet my stupid and lazy ass brain won't work! Ugh, why is it so hard to go easy on myself like my therapist told me?!

"I'm a toxic person, you know? All I bring to the table is misery and negativity. Why would people want to be my friends? I'll end up hurting them! People are better off without me! I'm too much of a failure and too broken beyond repair!"

"No, you're not. You deserve to live and be here. We'll work together to get you through this," my therapist told me during one of our sessions.

"C'mon. Both you and I know it's true! I'm worthless and I'm just taking up precious space! The world would be a better place if I could trade my life with someone who is dying and desperately wants to live. At least they would make a difference!"

My parents have told me high and lows are part of life and that I should enjoy life and being alive, that I should be thankful I live, but I can't. Because I am really not. I can't fake gratefulness. That's just not possible. I can tell you I love and enjoy being alive, but those words are hollow. I'm starting to give up all hope that life will get better, that things will get better, that I can get better.

I've tried many things to make this pain go away. I've tried ignoring it for as long as I could before it got worse. I go for daily runs (and I swear the next person who tells me that I should exercise more will get punched I the face). I do community service. I've tried being open with others about my struggles and accepted help. I've been journaling and reading my bible for a good chunk of my life even before this started. I've even prayed to God to either take away my life or take away my pain as I cannot bear this pain for much longer… but then again, it hasn't worked either. All of this just led me to resort to unhealthy coping mechanisms.

The day I came out to my parents about my mental state and self-harm, they were devastated. They cried, and even my brother cried too when I told him about it. They saw my wounds and cried even more.

“You could have cut yourself too deep and… and… you know we wouldn't be complete without you, right? We could never recover if you did something like that!” my mom had said. It made me feel more guilty and ashamed, but I know it was out of concern.

I just wanna go to sleep and never wake up again, but I also don't have the courage to ensure that actually happens. I'm done with living in this pain, but I have to stay. Not for myself, for I really don't care whether I die or not, but for them. For my family. For my friends. For my team. For God. For those who know me and would miss me if I were gone. Life may never have meaning for me anymore and just be a living hell day after day, but at least those around me will be happy. They'll be happy because I'm still around. I may be in pain, but that doesn't give me the right to inflict pain upon others. I'm not a bad person. And even then, I don't have the courage to do it. I'm too much of a coward.

People keep telling me this is just temporary, that the darkness will lift some day and that blessing will flow into my life. I know God can heal my heart and my mind with just one word... but He hasn't, and only He knows why. But still, I believe in Him.

Oh, well, I guess as I do have to stay here, then I'll search for hope. For hope that things can get better, that life can get better, that I will get better. Search for the hope I lost that once belonged to me… despite the pain and suffering.

But please don't pity me for long. I'm just a random stranger on the internet with a Reedsy account and a passion for writing. If you get sad, then I'll feel bad and ashamed that I even wrote this nonsense. I really don't know why I wrote this. Hopefully someone can relate (?) and know they're not alone.

Thanks for reading through all this yapping.

Sincerely,

A random stranger on Reedsy

(Author's note: I'm sorry if this story does not have the same quality of writing as my other stories as I'm really having issues concentrating and thinking straight. I was trying to get back into writing after having stopped for almost four months. I hope someone could relate to this and feel less alone.)