to my 12-year-old self, please stop crying

tumblr_o43352OCkH1s3jg9qo1_1280 Dear me,

I’m sorry you feel so scared. I want to tell you that it gets better – that with each passing second, your heaving chest will feel lighter and the voices around you softer. But it doesn’t get better. Not really.

Remember when you thought it was the end of the world when they chopped down your favorite tree in the park? You felt like you lost yourself and that you won’t ever feel complete again. It’s kind of like that. A part of yourself will always be missing, and you’ll always wonder what you did wrong. You will wonder why men and women try so hard to impress each other only to spend the entire night staring at a lit up box, concentrating on virtual people that aren’t in front of them. You’ll wonder why girls sprint to the bathroom after dinner only to stick their fingers down their throats. You’ll wonder why your parents argue in the middle of the night.

And then you’ll stop wondering. You’ll become one of them.

Nameless, faceless, lost. Your eyes will sink lower and lower into your skin, and they will lose the hope and curiosity they once held. You will scream and cry and question why you are never enough. You will drown over and over again, but no one will notice even though the walls are so thin. And you’ll worry. You’ll worry about the way you look. Society has ingrained into you that pretty girls are skinny girls, pretty girls are perfect girls with perfect teeth and long hair. You will spend many more years worrying about the way you look and questioning why you don’t look like girls in magazines and movies.

Your mom will tell you to stop eating. You will look down at your plate, trying to choke down a mouthful of tasteless leaves while you choke back tears. You will spend many hours sitting on the bathroom floor, your head resting against the door, wishing you were as cold as the tiles beneath your feet. You will hurt, and you will cry, and you will wish you didn’t wake up. There will be scratches on the pale walls made by metallic rulers. Names of crushes, dates of first kisses. Tally marks of days spent alone and nights spent lonely. You will spend time on the corner of your bed – curled up and alone, staring at the artificial fluorescent glow, wondering when it would all get better. There will be late night phone calls and tears that ended up with scars not on the walls.

But you will learn, and you will cope.

You will learn to drown out the noise, the endless whisperings and reminders of “you are a disappointment” and “no one loves you.” It will be difficult, but you will try. If I could give you advice, this would be it: Stop looking at your feet. The world is much more beautiful when you actually look up and notice the things around you – the skies, stars, people. See those old books and novels that line your shelves?

Read them. Live a thousand lives among warriors and princesses and dare to dream as far as they do. Stop focusing on what other people think of you – they don’t matter. Find a group of friends who will not judge you and who will love you for who you are. Trust in them and trust in yourself. But most importantly, love yourself. I know it’s difficult- I’m still struggling with it today, and it will still be a struggle in the future. Keep trying. Accept the love you receive, and give as much love back as you can. You are worth it.

Love,

20-Year-Old Me

not-nothing

I woke up at 8:30 when Joe left for class. I fell asleep right after he left. I’ve just been so tired lately. My alarm went off at 9. I snoozed it. When it rang again, I turned it off. I didn’t want to go to class. I should’ve just gone back to sleep. But I couldn’t. I stared at the ceiling for an hour. There are four small bumps near the light. The paint is a little faded in the corner. There’s a spot that looks like a small turd. I don’t know why I had to look up to describe the ceiling. I’ve memorized it by now. Joe has even caught me doing it a couple of times.

“What are you doing?” he’d ask.

“Nothing,” I’d respond.

Which wasn’t a lie. I was doing nothing. But it was also not nothing. I can’t really explain it. This not-nothing thing that I do all the time is kind of the only thing that I can do. I have a biology exam coming up (I skipped the lecture today), and ~~two~~ three assignments due for my journalism class. Every time I try to study or do research for my assignment, I’m filled with all this dread. I feel like something bad is going to happen. Which doesn’t make sense but I promise I’m trying my best to explain.

These past two months have been difficult. I never quite understood when people say they’ve reached their “breaking point” until now. I am cracking. With every person that I talk to, every assignment I submit, every distraction that I give myself – I am stretching stretching stretching parts of me and giving everyone pieces of me and I don’t know if I can get them back. Not-nothing is how I deal with the dread. Since I don’t know what will happen if I keep pushing myself, I might as well prepare for the end. Does that make sense? Probably not.

It doesn’t matter. I don’t have any more of me I can give. At least when I’m lying in bed and doing not-nothing, I can imagine the ground swallowing me whole. I can imagine me folding into myself until there is nothing left. It’s quite therapeutic, really. If I cannot control how much of me I’ve lost, perhaps I can control how I disappear.

I’m supposed to get better. I think. That’s what my psychiatrist said anyway. And in some ways I am. Just not enough. I feel awful. I don’t know how much more of this I can take. My thoughts are so loud. And I don’t know how many more not-nothings I can go through.

I know, I know that I am not alone. And I am so grateful but I feel like such a big disappointment. I don’t want to bring everyone down with all my emotional crap, you know?

Joe – I’m sorry for all the late nights. For always crying at something stupid and for always being an emotional mess. Thank you for holding me and loving me. I love you more than words can ever say.

Dena – I’m sorry I haven’t been a better friend. Thank you for always knowing what to say. Thank you for being my home in this strange, new world. I think you fixed me.

For the longest time, I thought that I needed a break from the world. That it was too loud. Too jarring. But I realize now that it isn’t the world that’s too loud. It’s me. And I need it to all stop.

I need me to stop.

I’m not really in the mood for writing but I figured if I started, things would just get flowing. I had an exam today that I thought I was unprepared for but it turned out better than I thought, so that’s good. I still have a bunch of work piling up and I’m not so sure what to do. I want to take a break from school and from life but it seems like I’m always taking a break even though I don’t feel like I am. Joe says it helps to make to-do lists. He made me a pretty pink smoothie today. I’ve been on my new medication for about a week now and I do think it’s helping but I still need more time to adjust. As I was studying yesterday, I realized that, in the grand scheme of things, this moment is very small and I probably won’t even remember it. And I should focus on the important things that make me happy. Sometimes I get sidetracked. Life just gets in the way. I took two naps today and I’m still tired. Every morning when I wake up, the only thing that gets me through the day is the thought of coming back home to sleep. I want to feel inspired again but I don’t know how. At least that’s a step towards somewhere, right? I need affirmation that everything is going to be okay because I don’t know if it is. I’ve lost a lot of myself and I don’t know how to get her back. I just don’t know anything anymore.

31 October 2018

I don’t feel so bad today. I think.

I woke up at 9:30 a.m. and decided not to go to my bio lecture because I think that it is a waste of my time. I hate biology.

I ate cheerios and immediately felt guilty afterward.

I submitted my essay to the very nice professor who granted me an extension (I told him about my crippling depression). Which made me realize that I should probably be asking for more help.

I told Her Campus about my crippling depression too (ironic because I’m working on the mental health campaign). So they’re giving me time off.

I finally have an appointment tomorrow with BU’s student health services so I guess I’ll finally have help (??).

I keep having nightmares that leave me panic-stricken in the middle of the night. I always feel guilty for waking Joe up but it is so hard for me to fall back asleep. His breathing helps steady mine.

I can’t remember the last time I called my dad and I always feel guilty thinking about it. I can’t call him yet – he’ll ask me how things are and I can never lie to him. But I can’t tell him how much I’m struggling because I need to prove to him that I can be an independent adult.

I have an article I’m supposed to write for my journalism class that’s due in a couple of days. I like this class a lot. And my professor is incredibly inspiring. But I’m scared of all the deadlines I will miss because of my mental health. I haven’t missed any yet because I’m really pushing myself.

This post sucks but it made me feel a little bit better so I guess that’s okay. I still feel incredibly lost but I’m trying.

-D

*I realized after I posted this that today was Halloween. So, Happy Halloween! It’s kinda sad that I forgot actually, it’s one of my favorite holidays.

the truth

I haven’t been feeling so great lately.

Mental health has always been something that I’ve talked about as a thing of the past. But it isn’t. Not at all. I’ve had my fair share of relapses, but every time I sink a little deeper, I know that I can make my way up. I’m not so sure this time.

I don’t know what’s happening. I feel like I am trying so hard to be okay because I know it isn’t easy for the people around me. And it sure as hell isn’t easy for me either. All the days have blended in with one another and I feel as if I am losing myself. All I want to do is stay in bed and sleep forever. But I know that I can’t. I know that I have responsibilities. I’m supposed to go to college and get straight A’s. Be a good role model for my younger sisters. My parents have invested in me. My family looks up to me. I want to give up. But I can’t.

At the same time, I don’t want to give up. I’m grateful for my life. It’s been a good one. To Nina, Sara, Joe, and Dena: thank you for always supporting me and taking care of me. I hope I haven’t taken anything for granted. I love all of you so much. But I’m not so sure that I can be fixed. I’m not so sure I even have the energy to want to be fixed. I just don’t know anything anymore.

How do you tell people who love you that you can’t do this anymore? That you are just so so tired? That you just want to sink deeper and deeper into yourself until you disappear? That you just. want. to. sleep.

You can’t.

The point of this blog is for me to get my feelings out and to tell the truth. For the longest time, I thought that I always had to write something happy – people love reading happy stories, right? Or if I wrote something sad, it would have to be about how “things are so much better now” or how I learned so much or how I suddenly discovered myself.

But that is not what this post is. I haven’t reached any sort of resolution or conclusion. I’m more lost than I have ever been before. I need help and I don’t know how to get it. I’m tired of trying.

a letter to my madness

Dear Madness,

The days keep getting harder and harder. I really wish we weren’t this sad. I know that we’re in this together and that we should work together to make things right. But you make it so damn hard for me to want to help when all you do is fuck everything up. I don’t know what to say to you because I’ve tried everything and nothing seems to work. Nothing seems to be enough. I’m tired. Please stop making me go through this again. Everything hurts and this is unfair. I want to enjoy life. I want to wake up early and drink orange juice and pet my kittens and go to bed without waking up and crying in the middle of the night. I’ve accepted you, I’ve reasoned with you, I’ve made you almost disappear a couple of times. Don’t I get points for that? I have taken you home with me and introduced you to my family. They’ve accepted you too. Why isn’t that enough for you? Why do you keep coming back to haunt me? You’ve been my shadow for a long long time now. I’ve gotten too used to you. Please leave me alone.

— Spilled

love & guilt

I don’t think I express enough gratitude. My thoughts are so muddled sometimes and life just moves so fast that I never have enough time to just sit down and reflect on how lucky I am to have so many amazing people in my life. Sometimes I get scared thinking about how much people actually care about me. Partially, because I always feel so guilty. Who am I, and why do I deserve your love? I spent the majority of my childhood and adolescence really loathing my existence. I mean, I’m just me, right? I wonder if they realize that I don’t have much to offer them. I’m not even that funny or smart. I’m just me. I know I shouldn’t feel this way – I shouldn’t feel guilty that I’ve accepted the love I’ve been given. But I just can’t help it.

I just feel so silly writing about all of this because I’ve been trying so hard with the whole self-love thing. I always talk about how much better life is for me now that I’ve started writing more and getting more in touch with myself. But the truth is, it’s always going to be hard. I’ll always have to try to make a conscientious effort to take care of myself. Sure, it gets a little easier, but it’s never going to be easy breezy. I don’t know what’s with me – I’m always going through ups and downs and confused in-betweens. This is just one of those.

I’m not quite sure whether or not I’ll post this, but when I first started this blog, I wanted to be completely myself and completely honest. This is my safe place. I know this entire post sounds as though I’m complaining about wow all the love I’ve been given and wow so many people love me. I promise that’s not what I meant at all. I’m so thankful. It’s just hard to accept sometimes.

So, *ahem* as the sole inhabitant of this safe place, I loudly and proudly announce: I am so grateful for all the wonderful people in my life – I have sweet sisters, close friends who have my back, and a best friend who always supports me. A boyfriend who always makes me feel safe. I’m grateful for all the love I’ve received from this world – God knows I don’t deserve it, but I have it and I am thankful.

Okay, that’s all for tonight! Thanks for reading my ramblings, I’m gonna go hide in a hole now, bye! X

ii. a letter to my future self

Hi readers! Since most of you were delighted by my previous “letter to my future self,” I thought why not post another one? This post actually predates the last one (I know I know I know I know, I suck.) But this one was salvaged from my old bedroom in Bangkok, and I believe it was written during the spring break of my senior year in high school.

Also, I’ll have you know that I am thoroughly embarrassed by these posts. Writing used to be something that helped me express myself in a way that I wanted people to see me, i.e. mysterious, cool. Alas my writing has its limitations and I can only be fake cool for so long. Yes, I surrender to the cool gods. You guys win. Revel in it.

Anyway, welcome to my mind. It’s a fun place.

10 March 2017

Dear me,

How are you? I hope people are still asking you that. You’re probably in college and you’re back for break…? As of now, I don’t know where I want to go yet, but no matter where you chose, it was a good choice. If not, nothing’s permanent! Hey, transferring is always an option. I hope that you are happy and you are safe. Knowing you (AKA myself), I know that you are unafraid to throw yourself out there to experience all the possibilities of life. But please be careful because there are people out there who love you. Dad, mom, Nina, Sara – even little grandma. Are you still writing? I sure hope you are because words are so so powerful (but you know that). Please don’t forget to push a little harder. Things sometimes don’t work out, but you KNOW that you can do this. I hope that you are where you want to be.

Remember: if you don’t like something, change it. And if you can’t change it, accept it. Be honest. Especially to yourself. All wounds heal. And you’re never ever alone. I hope you go home each night to a warm bed and maybe someone’s arms – and safe. You are important. And you are loved. Take care of yourself.

Love,

Me at 17 xx

Post-letter thoughts (present day)

Should I respond to these letters? I feel rude. Even if it is to myself. Is this stupid? Am I crazy? Please let me know if I should respond to my past self. Thanks for reading!