I want to preface this piece by saying I’m fine. I want to, but I can’t. Maybe I will be by the time you read this, tomorrow, or next week or two years from now. I might be fine by then. I hope I am, but regardless I’d like for you to read this.
I want you to read this because I probably haven’t ever said some of these things to you directly. I’ve gotten bad about that, putting things in writing that ought to be said in person. Things like: hi, how are you? I miss you. I never meant to stay gone for so long. I’m sorry. I was doing what I thought was best. It’s going to take me a while to come back, and I might not stay.
I haven’t told you what it’s been like for me lately, how my days and nights get swapped sometimes. My brain gets so loud I can’t sleep. I’m eating too much, if at all and moving not much more than necessary. My concentration is a mess but it still manages to let me focus on all the things I’m screwing up.
I’m sad a lot. I’m lots of things, sometimes all at once, sad, angry, hurt, tired. Sometimes I’m just confused. If you’re reading this, you’re probably thinking I’m being too hard on myself. And you’d be right, if you’re reading this.
I hope you’re reading this and if you are I want to say thank you. Thank you for believing in and supporting me, for caring about and being worried for me. And thank you for every time you’ve done that for someone who wasn’t me but who was also going through it.
It is so hard to go through. Depression, anxiety, the knowledge that you have lived through things that you can look back and label as trauma, dealing with that trauma. Realizing that the trauma you’re dealing with now might one day be old trauma and get replaced by something new. It is so hard to allow yourself to feel these things and know that they need to be felt and then let go of. It is hard to let go.
It’s hard to let go of the things that you’re just now discovering inside of yourself. It’s like sifting through burning coals or sharpened sea glass. It hurts, but you’re transfixed by the shapes and colors. And when you’re able to pick out something you can understand, you hold it close even if it’s hurting you.
I’d like for you to read this, even though it’s kind of long. You probably think I take too long to say what I’m trying to say. But it’s not that, it’s just that I’m never finished. No one is ever finished. There’s too much to say. Its not that I can’t make a point, it’s that I’m working off a never ending bulleted list.
If you’re reading this, know I appreciate it. Whether you like it or hate it, whether this is my first piece you’ve ever read, or the last you ever want to, I appreciate it. You don’t even have to tell me you read it or what you thought. No really, just know I appreciate it. Because I really would just like for you to read this.